Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta
by General Schemer
Summary: In this second book in the 'Auror' series, Harry is an Auror of the special branch and follows a beautiful band leader down a rabbit hole of mystery and intrigue. The trail leads to a 500 year old wizard bent on destruction of the thing he's trying to protect.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** A novel Which is basically a Romantic, Action/Adventure story. Note: also episodes of rather dark violence.

**Disclaimer:** Everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling, and this story and it's original characters are mine. Contact before reproduction.

**Pairing:** Harry/OC and Ron/Hermione

**Rating:** M for adult themes and content.

**A/N: **This story will be the second in the 'Auror' series that began with 'Twelve Gates'. Inspired by the 'Hardboiled' giants, Hammett and Chandler, the story will hopefully have a slower and smokey beat reminiscent of those types of stories.

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta**

**Chapter 1.**

For weeks now, Harry had been thinking about a window in the Auror office. It was foolish of course. The Ministry was so far under the streets of London that, even in the wizarding world, a window would be impossible. But the Auror office had been boring as a tomb lately and he'd give anything for a window. He'd also had nagging suspicions that growing older meant accepting boredom as routine. But the thought of this was too morbid and he hoped any day now he would find he was wrong. This morning, like most of his mornings now, he was thumbing through the _Daily Prophet_ to find the section for the weekly horoscopes.

Leo: 'A tragic experience will lead to adventure and romance.'

"Codswallop," he mumbled to himself and threw the paper on the floor. Last week's horoscope was somewhat believable. Digging through the pile of discards, he found one with a crossword puzzle he hadn't finished. Familiar and heavy footsteps announced the ginger haired wizard with two cups of coffee from the canteen. Ron set the lidded cup on Harry's cubicle desk with a little wooden stir stick precariously balanced across the top.

"Thanks Ron. I'll get the next," he said, removing the stir stick and opening the paper to the crossword puzzle.

"Still hard at it I see," Ron said and plopped down at his own cube.

"If Kingsley wouldn't be such a hard-ass and find me a new assignment," he said, looking for a quill.

"You get a date for this weekend?" Ron asked while testing the coffee with a small sip.

"You're kidding – right?"

"No – just hoping she might have a friend," he said and put the coffee down to cool.

"What's a four letter word for a wizard or magician?" Harry asked, ignoring the remark.

"You know – I heard about this new wizarding club in south Wales that just opened," Ron said, optimistically.

"Yeah, I think I heard something about that," Harry said, still engrossed in the puzzle.

"_Well_... whadyouthink? Maybe we ought to check it out – lot's of hot witches, from what I've heard."

"Yeah, and a lot of hot-headed wand slingers to go with em," Harry shot back. "Just the kind of trouble I don't need Ron. I'm in enough hot water with Kingsley as it is," he added and scribbled something down on the puzzle.

"Whiz!" Ron announced.

"Huh?"

"The four letter word for wizard," Ron said as if the answer was obvious.

"Nope – has to end in E," Harry clarified and popped the lid off the coffee.

"You need to square things up with Kingsley. Try being nice for a change," Ron said and pointed his stir stick at Harry for emphasis.

Harry shook his head with no answer and looked away, reflecting.

"Mage!" he said with a perfect impersonation of a man saying 'Eureka'.

"What?" asked Ron.

"Mage – the four letter word for wizard or magician," he added.

"I'm serious Harry – you better get on better terms with Kingsley if you want another assignment."

"Thanks dad," Harry said and filled in the word in the crossword puzzle. "So what's Kingsley got you working on," he added, without looking up.

"Just got a new assignment – now that you mention it," Ron said, with a contented smile.

"Well... what it is then?" Harry asked with impatience.

"You remember Penny Penthane from school don't you?"

"Sure, she's not the kind of girl you forget."

"Yeah – well, she quit singing for the Weird Sisters," he said and took a pull from the coffee. "She's singing lead for a big time Muggle band now," he added.

"That good to know – so how do you fit in?"

"It's Jerry and me. We're to help her out a bit," Ron said and gloated.

"What kind of _help_?" Harry asked, with a dubious expression.

"Just watch out for her I guess – she's got a stalker or something like that," Ron said and rolled his shoulders into a shrug.

"What – she doesn't have Muggle bodyguards?"

"It's not a Muggle stalker! That's whats so odd about it. She convinced Kingsley he's a wizard," he explained through furrowed brows.

"Yeah, that is kinda odd. So, how'd she figure that out?"

"Don't know – Kingsley didn't tell us much, but we're off to talk with her this afternoon," Ron said.

Harry threw down the crossword paper and shook his head. "What a load – playing wetmaid to a crumpet like Penny Penthane," he said, dejectedly.

"It's Electra."

"_What?_"

"Electra – her stage name is Electra," Ron explained. "Anyway, her band will be in London for a few weeks – should be a nice assignment," he said and chuckled.

"Yeah – that's like saying the Pope's in Rome."

Eddie, the courier for out of office post, stepped in the Auror office and opened the flap of a large leather shoulder bag.

"Morning Eddie," Ron and Harry chorused. He paused by Harry's cubicle.

"Morning... I think there's something for you Harry," he said as he fished through the bag. He pulled out a small envelope and handed it to Harry.

"Thanks..." Harry said, looking at the envelope curiously.

"A fan letter?" Ron asked with an animated tone.

Harry studied the note for few moments and stared off into space.

"No... it's from Hannah Abbot. Says there's been a scary stranger hanging around the pub," Harry said and threw down the note.

Ron nodded and pursed his lips. "Hm... that's odd. Seems the world is full of weirdos these days. Is she still dating that guy from Durmstrang?"

"No idea – what's a nine letter word for a type of toad?"

"You better go down there and help her out mate," Ron said, grinning. "She's looking pretty good these days," he added and nodded deeply.

"Ron, is sex the only thing on your mind?" Harry asked, still struggling over the crossword.

"No, of course not – I like a good meal every now and then," he quipped and swallowed down the last of the coffee.

‡‡‡‡‡

Diagon Alley was always different at night. The air was fresher, cleaner somehow. The patrons would be talking and laughing as they came out of the shops and onto the cobblestone street. There were fewer worried looks and fewer sad faces. Knockturn Alley was more sinister at night for almost exactly the same reasons.

Most along the alley knew the Aurors and were happy to see them. The war was over and the greater part of the magical community had relaxed by now. But tensions could flair up easily over the smallest things and some were still nervous when strangers came to hang around the alley. Hannah had broken up with the guy from Durmstrang several weeks ago, but Ron could find that out on his own.

Of all the Aurors that entered the alley, Harry was the most respected. Walking toward the Leaky Cauldron on this night reminded him of sombre thoughts. Thoughts that led him to understand that respect had not come without a loss. The loss sometimes almost seemed more than he could bear. Sometimes he felt angry. Several of his arrests had gone down rather bad lately and now he was regarded as one not to cross wands with. Kingsley had been upset about it and thought Harry had used unnecessary force. Harry knew it was the black wand. The damned thing had a mind of it own. Or it was connected to a darker side of himself. He really didn't know which.

Old Tom had disappeared after the war and Hannah Abbot had taken over the Leaky Cauldron as publican or landlady. She had worked really hard the first year to get the place back in shape. The last thing she needed was some scary creep hanging around and frightening the customers away. She had hired some new kid to work the place and she was beginning to take a little time off to take care of herself as well. Her straw colored hair was always neat and plaited now, and the outer layers were almost blonde from the sun. She had garnered a kind of outdoorsy good looks with a copper color and shapely legs from frequent walks along the countryside.

Even when they were both seeing someone, Hannah was often warm and affectionate. More than once he noticed the swish of her skirt across his forearm as she passed his table. Then there were the times when she would touch his shoulder or hand when the conversation was particularly appealing. At first, Harry thought she was one of those touchy-feely kind of girls, but now he wondered if he had been to thick-headed to take a hint.

He entered the Cauldron from the entrance to Diagon Alley and quickly scanned the dining area for any new faces. Not seeing anyone new, he proceeded to the bar where a young man was drying beer mugs. The young barkeep snapped around as Harry approached and almost dropped a mug.

"Oh, Mister Potter – didn't see you," he said. "Can I get you something?"

The barkeep was Charlie, the new helper Hannah had hired.

"I was looking for Hannah – is she about?"

"I'll ring for her sir," the kid said.

"Thanks Charlie," Harry replied, leaning back on the bar and looking over the room.

A few moments later Hannah's heels could be heard coming around the bar.

"Harry – thanks for stopping by."

Hannah was a wearing loose fitting lavender frock with buttons up the front. For another night at the pub, the outfit was overdress. She was wearing heeled sandals and nice legs with athletic gams below the short hemline. With the sun she'd been getting she didn't need hosiery for color. The straw colored hair was neat, clean, and plaited behind her.

"I got your note. Is your problem here tonight?" Harry asked, immediately getting to business.

She nodded. "We can talk over here," she said and motioned to a small corner table.

Harry sat with his back to the corner with a good look of the dining area. Hannah pulled a chair very close to his and with her free hand tugged at the hem-line, which was doing it's best to creep above her knees.

"He's over there – in the other corner," she said, with a quick glance over her shoulder.

"So how long has this been going on?"

"A couple of weeks Harry. He comes in early in the evening and stays until closing. He buys a beer, maybe two," she whispered.

"Has he been obnoxious – or threatening?" he inquired.

Hannah, shook her head and the straw colored plait lifted a little. "No, but he's scary and the customers won't get near that corner," she said and bit her lower lip.

"Okay, I'll talk to him," Harry said as he made a motion to get up.

Hannah nodded with a look of concern. "Be careful."

Cupping his hands down the lapels of his jacket, he felt the reassuring bulge of each wand sitting properly in the lapel pockets. Stretching his fingers like a concert pianist, he relaxed and let the hands fall gently to his sides.

Most Knockturn Alley vagrants were fairly easy to evict from unwelcome establishments, but one always had to be careful. Harry had trained for hundreds of hours for just such situations as these. There was one problem however: no two were ever alike and while you trained for the expected, it was the unexpected that got you killed. The last Auror killed in a situation like this was hit from a curse fired under the table. If the wizard's hands were under the table he would stun first and ask questions later. He paused for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the scarcity of light from this part of the room.

The dark shadow didn't move or look up as Harry approached the corner table in which he was nestled. Just a few steps from the table, he paused to address the man. He was wrapped in a coarsely woven dark cloak and hood. The whole thing looked archaic and very inappropriate for the weather. There was a single beer mug on the table and his oversize hands were resting beside it. Harry paused until the wizard slowly lifted his head to take full notice. Shadow Man peered back with onyx black eyes.

"What brings you to Diagon Alley?" Harry asked the wizard.

"Just come in for a beer," the man replied in a voice like road gravel and motioned toward the evidence on the table. "And who might you be?"

"I'm from the Ministry of Magic. And who are you?" Harry fired back.

The man squinted with eyes like oily black marbles.

"A law enforcement official then – Have I broken the law?" he asked with his hands still on the table.

The wizard had casually side-stepped the question of who he was and why he was there. This was no time to be affable or loquacious. Harry felt his left hand trying to connect with the black wand - the fingers were beginning to twitch.

"No but you're scaring the customers – and there's been complaints – you'll have to leave," he added firmly.

"If I don't?" the man asked with a wry smile.

"You'll be having your next beer in Azkaban – you make the choice," Harry told the wizard as calmly as if he was explaining to a child.

"So who are you? Your name that is," the wizard inquired, just as casually.

"Harry Potter."

"Oh... I've heard of you," he said and nodded with a smile. The wizard lifted the hand from the table and reached for something under the cloak. Before the hand could get there, Harry's black wand jumped from the right lapel pocket and into his now extended left hand. He was reaching under the opposite lapel with his right hand when the wizard froze.

"Slowly," Harry ordered.

The wizard laughed a gravelly laugh and cautiously pulled a gold Galleon from behind the cloak and placed it on the table with exaggerated carefulness. With palms open and hands clearly in view he rose from the table and started for the door.

"Good night Mister Potter," he said with a little salute.

"Don't come back," Harry said and replaced the wand gently in his right lapel pocket. He watched until the stranger vanished behind the double doors and then turned to his own corner table. Hannah had been watching from behind the bar and let out a deep breath and a sigh of relief.

"I'm glad he's gone, and I hope he never comes back," she said.

"I don't think he will," Harry said reassuringly and Hannah gave him a little nudge back toward to the table. Hannah took the same chair she'd used earlier, which was at a cozy distance from Harry's.

"Did he say where he was from and what he was doing here?" she asked.

"Nah, he didn't say – probably just a drifter waiting for work in Knockturn Alley. I wouldn't worry about him," Harry said and gave Hannah a reassuring smile.

"I really hated asking you down here after work – you must be tired," she said.

"Don't even think about it. Things are slow at work. Boring really."

"Can I get you a beer?"

"Sure," he answered with a little nod.

"And something to eat – are you hungry?"

Harry shook his head. "No, not really, no."

Hannah pulled a face and looked over to Charlie. "Charlie, bring Harry a beer – and a sandwich too, please."

"You don't have to bother with all that Hannah."

"It's no trouble, and I do appreciate you helping out here," she said and she brushed a swatch of the forelocks out of her eyes.

"That's what friends are for – isn't it?" he asked and she ignored the remark.

"Be back in a second," she said and looked impatiently toward Charlie. A few moments later Hannah came back with two mugs of cold beer.

"You mind if I join you?" she asked playfully and easing the mugs on the table.

"Be my guest," he said, watching her curl one leg under the other as she sat down. A trick only a girl could do.

Charlie arrived a few moments later with a roast beef sandwich, cut diagonally in half and resting on a plate with crisps.

"Thanks Charlie," they chorused, and Hannah immediately focused on Harry.

"So how's you love life Hannah – seeing anyone new?" he asked.

Hannah nodded. "It's pretty good Harry, and you?" she replied with a grin.

"Yeah, couldn't be better," he said, nodding and reached for the beer.

Holding straight faces as long as possible, they both broke out laughing.

"We're terrible liars Harry."

"Yeah – we are," he said and took a long pull from the beer.

"I saw your ex the other day," she said with blue eyes watching his reaction from under the fringe.

"Really," he said. "It's a small world – did she come in here?"

"No, she was in Diagon Alley with some guy. Is that..."

"Probably – she's been seeing a Quidditch player with the Chudley Cannons," he said and grabbed a half of the sandwich. "And she's playing for the Hollyhead Harpies – you knew that, right?"

Hannah nodded. "You think she could have found someone on a winning team?" she said with a grin.

"Yeah... to say the least. That gent from Durmstrang you were seeing – any word from him?" Harry asked, between bites of the sandwich.

"Nope – I may have mentioned – his family sent him off to university," she said and took a pull from her mug. "No letters since then."

Harry shook his head in a mock show of sympathy, and a quiet fell over the table. There they were again. Sitting at the table with a white Elephant between them. When they both were seeing someone else they could gab for hours. They talked of places they went, and things they had done with no difficulty. They could even kid one another about their sex lives. But now it felt different. They were both obviously between lovers and the right words were suddenly hard to find. Several times they had started off like this only to have the conversation stall out, and Hannah would have to run off and see to something. Harry had a feeling tonight would be different.

Hannah was the first to jump in and try the water.

"_Sooo_, tell me. Why are you bored at work?" she asked as she lent forward cozily. Her top fell open, giving Harry a furtive glimpse. It was a warm beginning, and when his eyes rose to meet hers she was watching with a faint smile.

"Uh, a couple of things, I guess," Harry said, shaking his head and looking out into space.

"Well, lately – several arrests went down rather bad – and Kingsley thought I used excessive force."

Hannah reflected on this tidbit as she furrowed her brows and beckoned for him to continue. Harry adjusted his glasses, stalling for time. He rubbed his jaw where he picked up a new scar while on assignment in Romania. It was mostly invisible now and it only showed up when surrounded by five-o'clock shadow.

"After the war and that ugly thing in Romania – well now I have trouble dialing it down," he said and reached for an empty beer mug. He glanced into the mug and set it back down. Hannah grabbed the mug and lifted it into the air.

"Charlie," Hannah called out to the young barkeep. "The war was a lot to go through Harry, particularly for you – is that fair?"

"Kingsley's been through it as well – no it's me. I get angry quite often and stay narky a lot," he said with a mock frown.

Charlie scurried back to the table and set down a fresh mug. He hung around the table wearing an inquisitive smile. Hannah gave him a cold look and he scurried off just as fast.

"Oh – I see," she said and then curled one corner of her mouth into a wry grin.

"What's so funny?" he asked, smiling back.

"You're just cranky then," she said with a smile, as they both realized she had just reduced a terribly complex problem to a simple one. "You should take some time off."

"Oh, you think that would do it?" he asked with a grin.

Hannah looked at him suspiciously. "Something else perhaps?"

Harry smiled but didn't answer

"How long has it been since you've been out on a date?"

"A date?" he asked, pulling a face.

"Yeah... you know what I mean," she said and Harry returned her a puzzled look. "Okay – a full service date then," she added, then blushed.

"I don't know," he said and shook his head. "Oh... back with Sandy I guess."

"Harry that's forever. You mean you and Ginny never..."

"We never got back together before she left the Burrow."

"Oh dear – you must be a mess," she said with a look of concern.

He scratched his ear and grinned. "Maybe... yeah maybe you're right. It's just that – after the last two, I don't feel like getting into another relationship right now," he said apologetically and watched Hannah closely for any reaction.

She gave no clue and looked over at Charlie struggling with a tray of clean beer mugs. Most of the customers had called it a night and several more were saying goodbyes. She uncrossed her legs and the hem of the frock crept up to a portion of creamy skin not darkened by tan.

"It's getting late. Think I'll bolt the front door and help Charlie a bit – you need another beer?" she said, rising from the chair.

"No I'm fine, but thanks."

"Don't run off," she said and emphasized with a pointed finger.

Harry finished up the beer and thought on what Hannah had said. What she struggled to say was bang-on, a little female attention wouldn't hurt, but she didn't know the whole story. Maybe sometime he should tell her. Hannah had been a good friend, and he was getting a strong feeling things might get a lot friendlier if he let them. Between the beer, the catty conversation and Hannah's cute frock, he was beginning to feel relaxed and warm all over. It was that kind of feeling you get when destiny and desire are on a collision course and the world takes on an aura of honey sweetness.

Hannah was desirable, very much so, but he didn't see a future for the two of them beyond comfort for the night. If it came to that, would she still be friends later? He was thinking he wouldn't be that lucky. As his friends were in short supply right now he couldn't afford to lose any more. It might be best to chill-out and call it a night since his powers of reasoning were melting and his vision was clouded by the veiled honey-sweet aura of the evening. Yes, he would give Hannah some time to chew on his comments before lust cooked his brains.

Ignoring her instructions, he quietly got up from the corner setting and walked around the empty tables to leave by the front door. It was the way he had always left the Leaky Cauldron after the night Sandy died. He locked the door and shut it gently behind him. He took a deep breath of moist night air. Pausing to take in the street scene around him, he continued on, wondering if perhaps he had been a fool.

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A/N: Remember to review - and thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

**Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta**

**Chapter 2.**

Damn... he was nearly twenty minutes late, and it was his turn to buy the coffee this morning. Ron would be wondering about now, just where the bloody hell he was. Trotting down the long marble halls, he was almost at the canteen entrance. What the hell. Other than the coffee, how did it matter whether he was late or on time. The crossword puzzle would be in the floor, exactly where he'd left it the day before.

He had walked about the city after leaving the Leaky Cauldron, thinking of Hannah's remarks, life in general, and finally Sandy until the morning hours. And then later, he had dreams; dreams he was still caught in the Abbey. He was trying to get out but couldn't. Still trying to save Sandy, but couldn't. It had been this way for some time.

Looking great in the lavender frock, Hannah had been warm and friendly in an intimate way. Maybe leaving like he did had been stupid, but he'd played it completely fair by letting the girl know he was in no mood to fall into another relationship. But he woke up with a plan. He would make up some excuse to drop by again and ask her out to dinner for the weekend. He owed her a meal now anyway. If she didn't like his remarks about relationships then she would probably make up some excuse about having to work the weekend – or something like that. If she agreed to go, then there would be no holds barred this time. And if it looked like it would turn into a 'full service date' as she called it, this time he wouldn't run out on her.

He grabbed the coffee and little packages of cream and sugar. He threw the cream, sugar, and a couple of wooden stir sticks in a small manilla bag and put the lids on the coffee. Chuckling, he thought of how their morning would probably start off with Ron telling him stories of how he and Jerry fared with Penny Penthane. The regular lift operator was out this morning and the spotted face temp had trouble with the handles and gear levers. Thankfully, he'd taken the time to fasten the lids on the coffee. The kid's name tag read 'Clarence'.

"Thanks Clarence," Harry said, glad to be out of the lift.

"Have a nice day sir," said the kid.

Hurrying down the hall to the Auror office, he noticed the office was as quiet as a tomb. Curiously, Ron wasn't in his cube and it didn't look like he had been in since the day before. He put Ron's coffee on his desk along with his share of the cream and sugar.

Turning to his own cubicle desk, he fixed the coffee and was stirring it absentmindedly when he noticed and interdepartmental memo had been delivered and slid to the back corner of his desk. Still too hot to drink, he put down the coffee and unfolded the note in the shape of a little paper plane.

Potter,

Come to my office immediately when you get this.

Kingsley

_Huh, well whadayouknow, maybe he's finally gotten me an assignment. It's about time._

He blew on the coffee to cool it and took a drink. It would be low enough now to carry without a lid. Going straight away to Kingsley's office, he passed under the gilded archway and glanced toward Sandy's old desk and the new receptionist. She was working on paperwork of some kind as he approached her desk. A blonde head shot up and she looked at him with huge aqua eyes. She was cute. Not as good looking as Sandy, he thought, and she didn't have combat training, but she was just right for a receptionist. Not that it mattered – Harry had promised himself he'd never get involved with another female employee of the Ministry anyway.

"Oh Mister Potter – Kingsley is waiting," she said and shot up from the chair.

"What's this about Tracy, do you know?" he asked and she shook her head with a slightly worried look.

Kingsley's office was clouded with pipe smoke and he was staring a hole in the wood paneled walls. He slowly turned when he heard Tracy work the magical latch.

"Oh, Harry – you finally make it in?" he asked and motioned toward the leather chair by his desk with his pipe stem.

Harry took a seat and was swallowed up by the huge chair and then started off with a long apology.

"Sir, I know you've been a little disappointed with me lately – I'll do my best to tone it down," he admitted.

"What?"

"I've already started actually. Lately I've been leaving the black wand at home. You see that way..."

"Harry, shut up," Kingsley ordered and Harry stopped in mid-sentence.

"We've had an incident – a serious incident Harry," he said and sat the pipe in the stand.

"An incident?" Harry asked solemnly.

"Yes, and there's no easy way to put it – Jerry was killed and Ron is in bad shape," he said and dipped his head.

Taken back, he struggled to speak. "How... how sir – I thought they were just watching for a stalker?" Harry asked with a look of disbelief.

"I don't know – we'll have to talk with Miss Penthane. But first things first. I know you'll want to see Ron, of course. The family is at St. Mungo's now."

"Yes sir. How bad is it?"

"It's about fifty fifty, I'm afraid," he said and rose from the desk. He paced around the desk, deep in thought.

"Now, if he's stable, I want you to get back here after lunch – and with the black wand. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"We can't afford to lose any more Aurors," he said as he continued to pace. "Harry I wasn't particularly upset about the way you handled things. I just felt you weren't the right man for minor arrests. You don't need to lose that valuable edge you've put your life on the line to get," he said, looking Harry squarely in the eye.

"Yes sir. Thank you sir."

"If you get back in time I'll schedule you an appointment with this Penny Penthane."

"Yes sir."

"Maybe she'll have some answers about what the bloody hell happened to our Aurors," he said and slammed his fist on the desk.

‡‡‡‡‡

Harry had never seen Kingsley this angry before. As for himself, he felt almost numb. It was almost too much to believe. Jerry was gone. And Ron, he shuddered at the thought, but then blocked it. Ron would pull through – Ron would pull through, and he kept repeating this over in his head as he neared St. Mungo's. He had apparated to an alley near the condemned building of Purge and Dowse, Ltd., and paused by the plate glass window that was the magical entrance to the hospital. With no one watching his movements, he entered St. Mungo's and made his way up to the receptionist.

"I'm – I'm here to see Ron Weasley," he struggled to say with thick and dry lips.

"His visitation is restricted to family," the receptionist said apologetically.

"Yes... I am," he said, without thinking of the technicalities.

She nodded with a little smirk and looked up Ron's room number in a hospital registry.

"It's room 305, sir. The lift is down this hall on the left," she said and pointed the way.

"Thank you."

The long hall was painted that dull and boring green color found only in schools and hospitals. He entered the brass plated lift and pressed the button for the third level. As the doors opened he was greeted with the smell of a strong disinfectant cleanser. There was a plastic looking sign extruding from the corner that indicated the hall on the left was for rooms one through ten. He walked up to the door for 305 and stopped. He could hear soft voices but couldn't make them out. He was tight and tense all over. Taking a deep breath he forced his legs to move. The door was partially open and he poked his head in to see Molly, Ginny, and Hermione talking in muted tones.

"Harry," they softly chorused. Hermione ran up him and Ginny and Molly followed. He hugged all three of them and the emotions and tears began to flow from all three of the girls. After a time had passed, Hermione pulled away and dried her eyes. She reached for his hand and led him over to Ron's bedside.

"They have him sedated – he's totally out of it," she explained.

It wasn't a pretty sight. He'd apparently been burned by a curse of some kind. His skin was red and puffy and swollen to a point you wouldn't recognize him. The read hair had been singed completely away.

"What could have done that Harry?" she asked softly and Harry shook his head without speaking. Ginny and Molly gently nudged up behind the pair. Looking until it began to hurt, Harry turned to see Ginny looking at him through watered and worried eyes.

"Good to see you – by the way," she said, trying to smile.

"Good to see you," he returned and they gazed at each other and pondered what to say next. She nudged her head toward the door and took a step in that direction. They quietly stepped into the hall and into the waiting area. Ginny looked at him and he could see the question forming.

"Will you be going after whoever did this?" She asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Spoke to Kingsley earlier." Ginny shook her head with a worried and puzzled expression. An evil man had done something horrible to her brother. Now, someone more deranged and dirty would have to go after him. That would be him. Harry wanted to pretend they were back in school, but it wouldn't work. There were things men had to do – and they were the kinds of things men generally hid from women.

"You be careful Harry," she said as she gently placed her hand on his shoulder.

"I'll be fine. And you worry about Ron. Okay?" he asked and she nodded unconvincingly.

They looked at one another – clearly wishing for better times. There was a lot to catch up on. But it wouldn't be today.

"Oh Harry," came the call from a familiar voice down the hall. He turned to see Arthur and George had just turned the corner. Ginny gave him one last probing look and disappeared back into Ron's room.

"Arthur – George. Good to see you."

"And you Harry," Arthur said, quickly dispensing with the pleasantries. "Harry, do have any idea what went on here?"

"Very little actually. All I know is Ron and Jerry went to investigate what was thought to be a stalker..."

"Stalker?" Arthur interrupted.

"Yeah – with Penny Penthane's band. She had asked Kingsley for help."

"Harry, could any stalker have done this?" Arthur asked, incredulously.

"No... someone powerful must have got the jump on them. Clearly they weren't expecting it."

"No, I don't see how..."

"Arthur... Jerry? How did he..." Harry asked clumsily.

"It was the same as Ron – only worse," he said. "We just got back from speaking with Hippocrates. It's old magic Harry. He doesn't recognize it."

"He is trying to find out, isn't he?"

"He going through all the old books. He working on it," Arthur said and George nodded in agreement. "He's burned inside as well as out," Arthur said and almost teared up. Harry was taken back by the last.

"He'll pull through – Ron is tough," Harry said and Arthur nodded vigorously. "We'll catch whoever did this. I promise."

Immediately Arthur's expression changed from worry to caring concern. Harry and the Weasley's had always felt for one another like a family. Arthur and George traded hugs with Harry before he said a solemn goodbye and headed toward the lifts.

Kreacher was surprised to see Harry back at Grimmauld Place so early in the afternoon.

"Just back for a few things Kreacher," he said to calm the old house-elf.

"Yes sir," Kreacher croaked, giving Harry a curious look.

He trekked up to his bedroom and opened the dresser drawer. The wand case was buried under socks and things. He dug it out and opened the case to see the slick black finish of Severus Snape's wand. With careful fingers he delicately lifted the Birch wand and spun it by the handle before returning it to the pocket under his right lapel.

Cupping both hands and gently squeezing the lapels, her felt the reassuring bulge of both wands. Taking a deep breath, he felt complete. Not completely good – just complete. Looking at his watch, there was enough time to get back to Kingsley's office and maybe enough time to catch up with Penny Penthane before the day was over.

With the soft footsteps of an avenging angel, he left Grimmauld Place out the back door and closed his eyes, concentrating on the alley behind the Ministry of Magic.

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A/N: Remember to review and Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: The response to the first two chapters was pretty good but didn't really give the reader a feel for the story. This one should set the pace of the story for following chapters. Oh and thanks to beni for the comments.

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**Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta**

**Chapter 3.**

For a day in mid-April the weather was ridiculously hot and dry. It had been this way for a week and no one could remember anything like it. Already, the dampness of perspiration could be felt around his collar after walking the first block. The blue blazer, while a necessity, wasn't helping things.

Kingsley's report of Penny told a candid side of her career most would never know. Her family submitted her to intensive voice and dance coaching in some of the finest academies. With her voice training, she was to able to sing with classical precision and her dance background enabled her to out-perform most show-bands leads. While generally considered a mezzo-soprano she was quite comfortable in the range of the light lyric soprano and could move her voice along a four octave range. After a break with the Weird Sisters, she briefly struck out on her own to start up a pop rock band called 'Witches, Bitches in Britches'. It was an all female wizarding band and very popular in wizarding clubs around the country. But suffering from limited visibility and bookings, a trait inherent to most all-magical groups, she set out on her own again to find brighter lights.

Quickly partnering with a Muggle symphonic rock group called 'Bells of Elysium', Penny was able to hide her magical talents behind her natural stage-craft. With great looks, a super voice, and a genuine dancing ability there was nowhere for her to go but up. Her new band quickly became a sensation and experienced a frenzy of bookings over all of Europe.

The property around her flat was clearly high let. Even the dogs had professional walkers. Pausing by the sidewalk, he glanced up through ornamental trees to the top level terrace where he imagined her flat to be. Two muscular street doormen glared rudely as he pushed on the huge glass door to enter the foyer. He fought the temptation to smack them both across the cojones with a stunning spell. After finding and pressing the intercom button to her flat a staticky voice responded.

"Miss Penthane's residence," came the gruff reply from the intercom.

"This is Harry Potter. I have an appointment with Miss Penthane," he said, speaking clearly into the machine.

"Right you are. The doors to the lift are unlocked Mister Potter."

"Thank you."

There were two more glass doors guarding the brass plated lifts behind two artificial palm trees. Pushing one of the doors, it opened effortlessly and oily smooth. Studying the two lifts he could see the one was labeled for all levels up to three. The other one was singularly labeled fourth and appeared to have no other function. Penny's number was on the fourth level, so he gently pushed the button and waited for the polished brass doors to open.

The inside of the lift was paneled with unfinished wood, which his nose quickly identified as cedar. Soft mood music was piped in like an aural wallpaper and an overhead air conditioner vent was blowing cool, sterile air. Hydraulically dampened doors opened to a spacious foyer with tons of light, potted plants, and Italian marble floors. A door attractively labeled 4309 was nestled snugly at the end of the foyer. Self-consciously, he lifted the lapel of his jacket to sniff his shirt for perspiration. None that he could tell, but he wasn't sure if he remembered putting on deodorant this morning as he dashed out fifteen minutes late. He pressed the glowing button by the door and drew a deep breath.

A heavy and mechanical sounding latch clicked open, and a professionally dressed man in a midnight blue jacket and red tie greeted him. He had a short crew-cut and fashionable beard stubble showing on a firm jaw line. Ex-military by the looks of him.

"Right this way Mr. Potter," he said dryly and Harry followed the man down a comfortable but narrow hall, decked out with pictures of the band on tour. As the man turned, Harry could spot what was probably the bulge of a handgun under the left armpit. The hall led into a large and open sitting room with a great view of the terrace and the city beyond.

"Make yourself comfortable – she'll be out in a minute," he said and disappeared behind an inconspicuous service door. The guard's nonchalant attitude and lack of scrutiny was pretty lax security for the circumstances, but the since the stalker was magical it probably didn't matter.

The place looked like the cover of an interior decorating magazine. It had a lavish blend of glass and stainless steel with warm hardwood floors on a split level. There was white fleece rugs and several cream and chocolate colored leather chairs. Beyond a wall of windows and glass doors was a spacious terrace with a view of the city. The windows had blinds pulled to the top and hidden by a cornice. The view had to be breath-taking at night, he thought. A million – yep, the place had to let for a cool million a year. He sank into a butter smooth leather chair and picked up a copy of the 'Rolling Stone' sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

He'd just found the magazine index when the soft tapping of feminine footsteps on hardwood announced the lady of the house.

"Hello Harry," Penny said with a cautious smile.

"Hello Penny," he said as he rose quickly from the chair and tossed the magazine back on the table. "Or should I call you Electra?"

She laughed and said, "Penny is fine – better really. How are things Harry? Haven't see you in an age."

Harry rolled his shoulders into a shrug and managed a grimaced expression. "I've got an angry boss Penny."

"Oh Harry," she said and shook her head. Strands of straight silky black hair moved together in perfectly balanced unison. "I know – this is terrible. Can I get you a drink?"

Harry thought about the offer. "Just Water," he said with a shrug.

"Of course – you're on duty," she said and moved gracefully behind a bar opposite the glassed wall to the terrace. She threw a few chunks of ice in two generous goblet sized glasses and filled each half full of water. "I'd suggest the terrace, but I'm afraid it's still a bit too warm. Crazy weather we're having."

"This is fine," he said as he took masculine pleasure in watching her every move.

"I'm not sure where to begin Harry," she said and handed him a glass. "And I'm not really sure what happened that night."

Harry took a sip of water and watched Penny pacing on hardwood. She moved with the bounce of an athlete and the grace of a dancer. The glossy black hair was cut not quite square but rounded off and just short of the shoulders. She was wearing skin tight black leggings and American style flip-flops of some designer brand. Her top was a sheer white number and as thin as a cloud. It was just manageably opaque with long tail that barely covered hers.

"You had a stalker – Ron said something about that," Harry managed at length.

"Yes that's true, and I asked Kingsley for help, but I never thought it would end up like this," she said and pulled a sad face.

"So... this stalker – you were convinced he was magical – a wizard," Harry asked and Penny moved over to the chair opposite from his and plopped down, breasts oscillating for only a moment. She took a deep breath and looked at him closely before answering.

She had a smooth sexy voice that sounded like butterscotch tasted. Her jet black forelocks were cut in a fringe just past the eyebrows over big grey eyes that reflected a glint of quicksilver. Perfectly concentric and spherical cheekbones were distinct and very high. The upper lip was short and pearly whites were perfectly framed.

"At first it was just a woman's intuition," she said and reflected with a sip of water. "And then later – well, I was pretty sure."

"Really – how so?" Harry asked, leaning back in the leather chair and sipping the water.

"He was just odd looking. I've been all around Europe Harry and seen all kinds of fans, but nothing like this guy."

Harry frowned at the useless description. "Odd – in what way?"

She shook her head for a moment. "Like he was from the wrong time period or something?"

"I see. So what made you think he was a wizard?" Harry asked, as he pretended to be interested in her, less than professional, description.

Penny scratched her ear through layers of jet black hair. "He kept showing up after shows. Sometimes before. But, at first, that's all there was to it," she said with a shrug. "Then one night, after a show, I thought I heard the sound of apparition – just right outside here – on the terrace. I'd come in for a drink, you see, but left the door open. When I went back out I saw Jimbo, one of my bodyguards, lying on the terrace. He was out stone cold," she said and paused for a drink.

"Yeah, and then what happened?" Harry asked.

"Well, for a few weeks _nothing_. Jimbo never knew what hit him, and he's no slouch, Jimbo – Ex-Military, tough guy."

"Was that him?" Harry asked, alluding to the guard that let him in.

Penny smiled. "No," she said, shaking her head. " – and something I didn't tell Kingsley. One night about a month ago, I had let everyone off except for the front guard. I went over to the window. It was a beautiful night, but late and I was about to turn in and close the blinds," she said and rolled her eyes. "I didn't have much on you see," she said with a grin. "Well I looked out and the bastard was just standing there – I ran for my wand, but by the time I got back he was gone."

"You didn't call the guard?"

"No. Those guys can't handle a wizard – and besides I was nearly naked."

"Oh, yeah, I guess so," Harry said with a nod. "Well, back to the night Jerry and Ron got hit. Was it after the show?" he asked.

"Yeah, it was definitely after the show Harry. We'd just finished up and the lights were coming down. I changed in my dressing room and we were out in the car park and almost in the Mercedes," she said and paused for water. "They said something was a little odd and were going back to check it out. One of the guards pushed the top of my head in the car and told to driver to get us out."

"So after the show – that was the last you saw of them?"

"Yeah, that was the last. The stalker creep – he must have got the jump on them," she said, shaking her head.

"Penny... No stalker or peeping Tom, or whatever you want to call him, can take out two Aurors. That's not going to happen," Harry said firmly.

"No..." she asked, with an expression on her face like a child that just got the answer wrong.

"No... no way in hell."

"They're that good huh?" she asked with a little smile.

Harry ignored the question. She nodded then jumped up out of the chair.

"You like some more water?" she asked.

"No, but thanks."

She walked over to the plate glass window and stared out for a few moments.

"So what do you think Harry – can you help me?" she asked and brushed back her hair.

Harry carefully considered the question. "I think so – yes, but not as a bodyguard. At least not in the strictest sense. I'm after the wizard that killed an Auror and almost killed my best friend," he said.

"Yes I see, but watching out for me might be the easiest way to find him," she added.

"Penny, I can help you – but only at select times when we're most likely to run into this character. If you need a magical bodyguard, I could leave you a couple of names."

"But this creep has already taken out two of your guys – would an ordinary wizard be enough?" she asked and moved over directly into the path of sunlight beaming in through the windows.

Harry mulled over her question. As much as he hated to admit it she had a point. She had turned her back toward him to muse over the view outside the terrace. The afternoon sunlight was shining in at an angle to burn away the sheer cloud that was her top. He wondered if she knew the sun was rendering her top invisible. There was no hint either way as she was completely unaware or completely indifferent. She lifted one arm to brush away her hair and raised her glass with the other one. Her whole figure was perfectly backlit by the sunlight and resembled a marble nude of a morning goddess. The only effect of the clothes to alter this perfect feminine figure was the elastic waistband digging into soft flesh. She had more curves than Fourier and should be comfortable wearing just bare skin, he reasoned. When he didn't answer, she twisted her torso to look his way, beckoning an answer.

"No – no it wouldn't be enough," he heard himself say.

"Can you help me then?" she asked and turned away from the sunlight.

"If we can agree on some conditions – sure," he said. He was being difficult because Ministry policy generally forbade Aurors from doing bodyguard work. But he knew he would do it. Besides – she had a body worth guarding.

"Okay – what kind of conditions?" she asked and returned to the chair, sitting on her legs folded under her bum.

"First, I need to talk with Ron – when he wakes up that is. I'd like to know what he encountered that night," he said.

"How much time do you need?"

"I don't know – he's in bad shape. A week or two?"

"Yes but... you don't mean canceling shows during this time?" she asked with an expression of alarm.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, that's what I mean."

"Oh, I don't think so Harry. I can't do that. What excuse would I give? That two wizards were ambushed?"

"I don't know – you can think of something, can't you?"

Penny looked off into space and pondered his question.

"Look – if I take a week or two off, people will assume I've got a drug problem. A new entertainer with the same old troubles. No, I've fought too hard to stay away from that image. The show must go on Harry."

"Even if it means your life," he probed.

"Look – if you want to wait until your friend comes around – that's okay, but the show has to continue. I need your help Harry, but it has to be this way," she said apologetically.

"Alright – I'll try and work around that."

"Thanks."

"Now – we'll have to work out a schedule – when you'd most need protection, that is," he said.

"Okay, I can do that. How late do you work?" she said with a smile.

"And one more thing," he said pointing his finger.

"Yeah, what's that?"

"I may have to establish some rules. We can discuss them. But if you agree, then you must follow them. This is critical. Do you understand?" he asked calmly.

"I understand, but we discuss them _first_?"

"Of course," he said, nodding. "So when do I start?" he said, throwing his hand up in surrender.

"Well, the sun's off the terrace and I was considering a drink. Can you join me? We can can discuss these _rules_," she said and pointed back with an index finger.

Harry checked his watch. "Well it's not quite five, but I don't think Kingsley would mind."

‡‡‡‡‡

"Yeah, just one cup this morning," Harry said to the canteen attendant who knew he normally bought one for himself and one for Ron. The Colombian arabica was a little stronger than what he normally drank, but he didn't have time to sit down and enjoy a cup at breakfast. Kreacher had been furious when he rushed out of the house late again without breakfast. He barely had time for half a cup while he threw together an egg sandwich for the way in.

He had sat out on the terrace with Penny for a couple of drinks and then a little longer. She admitted that after the stalker showed up she was reluctant to enjoy the terrace. Once they finished going over the technicalities of what he could and couldn't do for her, the conversation turned light and airy. They talked and laughed of school days and caught up on what had been going on since the war. The terrace turned cool and comfortable after the evening air settled in. Chatter and laughter from the street below floated to the top of the building along with smells from a nearby bakery that tickled the nose. All of this being back-lit by neurotic city lights, which never dim until dawn.

Hermione had left the Department of Magical Law enforcement several months ago. Her and Ron had gotten into a riff and broken up. After that, she twisted Kingsley's arm for a transfer. If he hoped to have any luck on this case, he'd need to get her back into magical law enforcement. Hopefully she'd have some encouraging news about Ron. Just a few steps away from her office door, he could see her light was on. He walked up quietly and poked his head in her doorway.

"Good Morning Hermione."

A once bushy haired, but now straight, head of brown hair spun around. Hermione had magically straightened the hair to a rather neat pageboy. The buck-teeth had been magically corrected and her figure had done some filling out since school days. Lately, she had learned how to dress to make the most of it. All in all, the whole package was as cute as a bug's pecker. Ron would have to get it all together if he ever wanted another chance at getting her back.

"Morning Harry. What's up?"

Harry pried the lid off the coffee and took a sip. Hermione riffled through papers as if he never entered the office.

"A couple of things actually, but first – any news with Ron?"

"Yeah, there is!" she said encouragingly. "Got an Owl this morning from Ginny. Apparently Hippocrates has found a treatment that appears to help. He says it was definitely old magic," she added, still sorting papers.

"Yeah, that's strange," he said. "But it gets me to the first topic..."

"And what's that Harry?" she asked and dropped the papers to level her hazel peepers at him.

He paused for a sip of coffee. "I spoke with Penny Penthane yesterday," he said, curtly.

"And aren't you lucky. What did the two of you ever find to talk about?"

"She said this stranger or stalker looked like he was from a different time, and that she needs protection," he said and took another hit of the Colombian arabica.

"That figures. So whad you tell her?"

"That... as long as long as it helps me find the wizard I'm looking for then it's okay with me."

"You'll have to get that cleared with Kingsley," she said with a little smile.

"Of course. And that's where I'm heading next, but I've got a favor to ask," he asked.

"And what is that?" she asked and wriggled her nose.

"Any chance I could get you back into law enforcement?"

"Oh Harry, don't go there," she said, sullenly.

"I sure could use your help, and it'll be quite some time before Ron gets back to work," he pleaded.

"I don't know Harry – I mean I'd like to help, but I just joined this department. What would Kingsley think?"

"I'll talk to Kingsley."

"And the office – I refuse to go back to that closet I used before," she added.

"I'll mention that as well. I'm sure we can find something better," he said, encouragingly.

Hermione scratched her head through the thick brown hair. "And if I go back to law enforcement, I'm overdue to start the self-defense training."

"I can help you with that," he said.

"Bollocks – I'll take my chances with Beollan, like everyone else," she said with a little pout.

‡‡‡‡‡

Tracy Tolley, Kingsley's new receptionist, and Harry almost ran into one another under the gilded archway. She had a pile of papers in hand and winched as she braced for the collision. Quickly sidestepping the perky blonde, Harry avoided an incident.

"Sorry Tracy," he said as she collected herself.

"Harry – are you here to see Kingsley?"

"Yes, if he's available?" Harry asked.

"I think so," she said and turned on a dime to go back to her desk. Harry suspected Tracy was from a rather well to do wizarding family. She had only been at the Ministry for a few months and already had a collection of colorful and bespoke fitting robes. Hermione, by contrast, worked nearly a year before she could afford the first. Harry doubted Tracy was at the Ministry for the money.

With a magical touch, that only her position entitled, she pressed the lock to Kingsley's office door and unfastened it with a heavy click. She pulled the massive leather padded door open and smiled back at Harry.

"Thanks Tracy," he said and immediately searched the office for the tell tale signs of pipe smoke. There were none, but Kingsley's head shot up to take notice of the young Auror.

"You finally make it in Harry?" he asked rhetorically and motioned for Harry to take the nearby chair.

"Yes sir, I stopped by Hermione's office first. We had a little talk and she told me Ron is doing better," he announced.

"Yes, I had a note of this news this morning," he said and lifted an envelope. "It's damned good to hear."

"Yes sir – very."

"So how'd it go with Penthane – is she still insisting a 'stalker' took out two of our Aurors?"

"I don't think she knows what to believe. She's scared and wants protection, I think. I told her we don't do bodyguard work," Harry said firmly.

"So how _do_ we proceed Harry?"

"I explained my goal was to catch this 'stalker' or whatever he is. But it might be a good idea to keep a close eye on her during her London shows. At least that's what I've proposed."

"That's what Ron and Jerry were thinking. It sounds solid enough, but obviously there was something we missed. We'll need to talk to Ron if possible," Kingsley said with a worried look.

"Yes sir, and I tried to persuade her into canceling the next show or two until Ron comes around," replied Harry.

"Did she agree?"

"No sir, and she was very firm on it," Harry said as he shook his head.

"Well, it's her pretty neck..."

"How much time can I give this job sir?" Harry asked gingerly and Kingsley laughed.

"What – are the crosswords piling up?"

"No sir, I just meant to ask how much of my time should I give the case?" Harry replied defensively.

"Until we hear from Ron or get something we can rely on, don't promise her anything more than you have already. I know you're a hell of a wandslinger Harry, but you could be wandering into the same situation Jerry and Ron fell into and I don't like it. Matter of fact, I'm thinking you should take Beollan along until we know what's going on," he said and pointed his pipe stem at Harry to emphasis the point.

Harry chuckled at Kingsley's suggestion. "I guess we could do that. He might like a rock concert."

"Well laugh if you want to – just remember Jerry and Ron. You think they're laughing now?"

This rare bluntness of Kingsley's wiped away Harry's smile and he shook his head in agreement. It was just the mustachioed image of Beollan at a rock concert that had him tickled.

"One more thing sir. I need Hermione back," Harry added with a solemn expression.

"Don't we all. Still can't imagine why she would transfer to that damned department for the protection of magical creatures or whatever in the hell it is," he said angrily.

"She's considering coming back sir, but she wants a bigger office," Harry injected.

"I think we can arrange that. I'll see what I can find," he said and reached for the pipe. "So when's Penny's next show?" Kingsley asked while dipping the pipe bowl into a pouch of tobacco.

"This weekend sir."

"Do you have any plans before then," he asked slyly.

"Yes sir – thought I'd seek an audience with the Crab Man," Harry quickly replied.

"That old geezer in Knockturn Alley – you think he'll see you?"

"He owes us a favor – all I can do is try. I'll ask around."

Finally, Kingsley broke into a laugh. "Well good luck with that."

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Thanks for reading and don't forget to review.


	4. Chapter 4

**Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta**

**Chapter 4.**

John Shorthals, aka the Crab Man ran a petty criminal network out of Knockturn Alley. No one really knew how he got into the racket or how he obtained the moniker of Crab Man for that matter. He was scarred from head to toe, which added fuel to rumors that he was locked into a large crab cage when he was very young. He'd grown up as a fishmonger and others said the scars occurred after falling into a fish net hanging from the back of a boat. Because of all the time he spent on the docks and wharfs around London he became, at a young age, aware of many illegalities in the form of contraband that flowed in and out of the city like a heartbeat. The Crab Man could be called a wizard, but not in the sense of being educated at Hogwarts and having a refined possession of magical abilities. No, John had grown up along the wharfs and finally into a life of all things with a criminal flair. Regardless of his humble background, there was almost nothing going on illegally around the city the Crab Man didn't know about.

The Ministry was known to occasionally turn it's head away from matters of small crime. There was a couple reasons for that. One: there was not enough manpower to handle every small case. Two: it gave the Ministry a way to buy favors. Or in this case, to buy the truth. If the Ministry turned it's attention away from small-time illegalities that John might be involved in, then Harry might be able to buy some information on Penny's stalker, and Jerry's killer. Her next concert was coming up in a few days and he desperately needed information of some kind.

There was Mundungas at the entry to Knockturn Alley – just as he had promised. The little wizard was glancing around as nervous as a totty in church. A clear trademark of his profession. Harry and Mundungas' relationship over the last year rested on a delicate balance. They both knew Mundungas had taken things from Grimmauld Place after Sirius was killed and Harry was very unhappy about it. Harry had done his best to overlook it, if and only, if Mundungas cooperated with the Ministry when needed. Harry was quickly on his way to becoming one of the most dangerous and powerful Aurors to come down the pike in a millennia and Dung knew he made a major mistake when he pissed on him the way he did.

"Thanks Dung – didn't expect you so early."

"Neither did I Harry. The Crab Man must be eager to see you," he said with a wry smile.

Harry nodded. "Can't imagine why, but I hope he's got news."

Pushing through a small crowd of cackling witches they made their way to the entrance to Knockturn Alley.

"We've got a fair walk – he's all the way in the back," Mundungas said and motioned to the end of the alley.

They weren't in the alley yet and already the smell of filth was wafting in their direction. Rot permeated every plank and brick and cobblestone along the way. Unknown filth ran down the gutters of both side of the stone alley.

"Well, you didn't expect him to be right in the open, did you?" quipped Harry.

"No – of course not, and it's not likely he'll be in the same place tomorrow," Mundungas said as he peeped curiously into a shop window. Following the twisting wind and carefully watching their step, the two approached Borgin and Burkes around a shop corner. Two men were standing in the doorway and having a heated discussion until they turned to see Harry. The conversation ended in mid-sentence as they disappeared into the shop. The shops were getting smaller and shabbier and the windows darker with grime as they moved deeper into the alley. There were very few signs of business or anything legitimate going on, in this remote end.

"It's not far Harry – just up ahead," Mundungas announced.

"Good," Harry added in a sullen tone.

The overhang of rooftops were beginning to obscure almost all of the visible daylight. And as the alley grew more narrow the air grew more stagnant and dank.

"This is it – right through here," Mundungas said and opened a badly weathered and squeaking door.

Mundungas entered through the shabby door of a weather beaten shack and looked back to make sure Harry was following. Harry wondered if this was the right place. As they entered the shack, a small interior opened to a long hall that stretched on dis-accordingly with the environment. A small lantern of some kind was burning at the end of the hall as it fought bravely against the blackness.

"It's a hidden extensibility charm," Mundungas said with a grin.

"Great – how much further?"

"Not too far – just a little more," he answered with an encouraging voice that failed to convince.

They continued until at last the lantern began to grow bigger. At the end of the hall, which had felt a hundred paces long, they stood in front of another door. The smell had changed from the normal stench to one that resembled something closer to a waterway. Yes, it was quite fishy. Mundungas pushed open the door to an open area flooded with natural light. They had entered a floored compartment underneath a long wharf adjoining a narrow inlet waterway. There were ropes and lines scattered everywhere upon a clapboard floor. The gentle waves below were breaking against support pylons with rhythmical cadence. Stepping over piles of ropes coiled in figure eights and moving around old barrels with missing staves, they made their way toward a door. At the end of the wharf they had to lift a wet fishing net, suspended by two heavy pegs and fanned out at the bottom, hanging to dry. Mundungas cracked open the door, peered in, and motioned for Harry to wait. Mundungas entered the room and popped back out a few moments later.

"He wants to know if you'll let me hold your wand?" Mundungas asked sheepishly.

Harry smiled at the expression on Dung's face. "Of course not – you know an Auror never gives up his wand," Harry replied.

Mundungas nodded a as if embarrassed by the question. He disappeared behind the door, taking longer this time, and finally popped back out.

"Okay, they're ready for you. They're just being careful – that's all," he said, apologetically.

Harry followed Mundungas into what appeared to be another small room, only to be fooled by another hidden extensibility charm. They trudged down another dimly lit hall with Mundungas looking back every few steps to glance at Harry. With his hand around another door knob, Mundungas paused and turned to face Harry.

"Okay, we're here."

"How'd you manage to get in and back out so fast?" Harry asked.

"Well, it wasn't extended the first time."

Mundungas swung the weathered and squeaky door open and the pair finally came face to face with the Crab Man. He was sitting at a longish table with what appeared to be two guards at his sides. The guards were both tall and gaunt and just as shabbily dressed as the Crab Man. But both had clear eyes and looked plenty alert enough for the job. Casually, the Crab Man motioned for Harry to have a seat.

"Hello John," Harry greeted the wizard formally.

"Good day Mister Potter. You'll forgive me if I don't rise, but this aching back is giving me fits."

"That's quite alright," Harry said and pulled the wooden chair away from the table. The two guards were watching him carefully as he took a seat, facing the Crab Man.

"We're not used to receiving guests Mister Potter. So what brings you my way today?" he asked with steel grey eyes that resembled ball bearings. The face was long and cracked and weathered by age with much exposure to the elements. The scars, if you could call them that, were mostly invisible now and hidden by all the wrinkles. The head, with the addition of small cauliflower ears, was devoid of hair, which could have been from natural balding or the much earlier effects of scaring.

"I'm after some information," Harry informed the wizard.

"I see. And what do you have to offer – for this information?" the wizard asked with furrowed brows.

John wasn't wasting any time. He wanted to know exactly what Harry had to offer him in exchange. He leaned back with arms crossed waiting for an answer and wearing an oily weatherproof leather jacket that was just as slick as the top of his head.

"A favor – we can offer you a favor," Harry said.

"What kind of favor?"

Harry contemplated John's invitation before speaking.

"We know you have a sweet deal with South Lines Transports," he said at length. "Illegal Asian imports of fake Rolex and Louis Vuitton. We could stop that at any time, but we haven't," he said as calmly as if the favor had already been granted.

"Now that you've told me, we could move to another shipping lines," John added with a wry grin. "And then we wouldn't have to tell you anything."

Harry frowned at the answer and quickly uncrossed his knee. One of the guards jumped nervously and then everyone froze.

John Laughed. "He's a little nervous – since you didn't let us disarm you," John explained.

"An Auror never gives up his wand," Harry said. "So what kind of favor would you require?"

"First Mister Potter, give us a little more detail as to what information you require," the Crab Man said as if he were explaining to a child. At that moment, an old and ragged woman in a tattered and patched woolen frock hobbled into the room, cradling a black cast iron pot in a wicker basket. She sat the pot on the table and reached into a pocket buried in the layers of clothing and produced a small plate and silverware. John quickly took out a handkerchief and placed it on the table for the silverware.

"I'm looking for a wizard or wizards that killed a Ministry Auror and severely injured another," Harry spit out the reply.

"I see," he said. "May I offer you and Mundungas some baked eel. Gladys here, fixes delicious baked eel?" he said and smiled a toothless smile.

"No thanks," Harry and Mundungas chorused.

John nodded and then removed the lid and dug out several sections of black eel onto his plate.

"So this wizard and your Aurors – they tangled somewhere?" John asked and delicately forked a section of black eel into his toothless mouth with the precision of a connoisseur. The fork hung motionless in his hand for a few moments as he looked heavenward to savour the eel.

"Yes, they did," Harry replied. John looked puzzled while gumming the eels. Trickles of dark goo seeped from the corners of his mouth.

"Come on man," he said after swallowing the mouthful. "You can tell me more than that."

"The Aurors were investigating complaints from Penny Penthane," He said reluctantly. "Her band's in London now."

Harry wondered if John could have any idea who Penny was. And he wondered if he just made a mistake by mentioning her name. John took the handkerchief off the table and dried the corners of his mouth and then curled one up into a wry grin.

"I see – okay, we can agree on a deal I think," he said and looked at Harry through the steely eyes.

"A deal?" Harry asked wide-eyed anticipation.

"I'll take your offer of silence on South Lines Transports – and I'll tell you what I know," he said and dug a few more pieces of eel out of the pot and on to his plate.

"Okay, it's a deal then," Harry said.

"I warn you – it's not much," John added and he pointed the fork emphatically.

"What do you have?"

"We kept a close tail on this man until you ran him out of the Leaky Cauldron," John said with a sly grin.

"That was the wizard!?"

"Yes."

"So you had him followed – why?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Like you I guess – this wizard took out three of our own. And my recommendation to you Mister Potter would be this – let sleeping dogs lie," John said, nodding.

"Well, I can't do that. And if I may ask, why did these men confront the wizard?" Harry asked.

"This Penthane you mentioned?"

"Yeah..."

"Apparently she had some problems with this wizard," John said and Harry nodded. "She hired these men to get rid of him."

"And it didn't go so well?" Harry asked and raised a brow.

"No, we never saw them again," he said with a glistening reflection in his steely eyes. "A real shame – they were all good men," he added with a frown.

Harry nodded and thought about what John said. He now wanted the wizard more than ever. The fingertips of his left hand began to tingle in anticipation.

"Well, thanks for the tip," he said and looked toward Mundungas.

"Thank you Mister Potter – you'll be going after this man I suspect?"

"Yes. I have a few tricks you don't know about," he added.

"We know you carry an extra wand – and I still advise you to leave this man alone," John said as a last warning.

Thinking they might never smell fresh air again they finally made their way out of Knockturn Alley and into a fresher breeze. With this new information, talking to Hannah's would be his first order of business. He could buy Mundungas a beer some other time. The news John gave was a mixed bag. The good part was that he knew what the wizard looked like. The part he found troubling was the part Penny never mentioned. If he was to work with her, there could be no secrets between them concerning the business at hand.

Tapping the bricks in an anti-clockwise pattern, the opening to the Leaky Cauldron began to appear in a clicking and clattering of dancing bricks. Quickly stepping through the yard, he made his way into the rear of the Leaky Cauldron and paused for a few moments to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim light. He was an Auror and all Aurors had the occasional enemy. It paid to keep your eyes open and use caution before entering a dimly lit room.

Charlie was waiting on a table in the front. Scanning around for the straw colored hair, a soft voice called out behind him.

"Harry..."

Hannah's warm smile was a welcome as she entered the pub with a towel from the adjoining stockroom.

"Hannah," he said as he turned to face the dishwater blonde witch. "Got a minute?" he asked taking a seat at the end of the bar that gave him a view of the dining area.

"Sure – what's up?" she said, taking the stool beside him. "You look like you need a beer."

"You're not far from wrong."

"Charlie – a beer over here please," she said and turned her attention back to Harry. "What happened to you the other night?" she asked with an impish grin.

He bit his lip and moved past the question. "Got some rather nasty news," he said and looked her in the eye. By this time Charlie returned with the beer. Hannah was all ears. "We've lost an Auror and Ron's was hurt badly," he said and Hannah clapped her hand to her chest.

"Oh Harry – how?"

"Well oddly enough – it may have been your stranger," he said and her jaw dropped.

"How is that possible? Is that possible?"

Harry just shook his head and then took a swig from the mug. Hannah glanced away, reflecting. Her nails, freshly painted with clear nail varnish, clicked on the bar nervously.

"Well, Ron. How bad is it?" she asked, obviously shaken.

"Bad, but apparently Hippocrates has found a remedy of some kind," he said with a little nod.

"That's good. But still, this whole thing – is so scary. So, are you..." she asked and Harry nodded. Hannah swallowed hard. "Yeah, it's what I do Hannah," he said and turned up the mug.

"For God's sake be careful Harry," she said and looked at him with darting blue eyes.

"He hasn't been back has he?"

"Oh no. Haven't seen anything of him."

"Well listen, don't worry about it. He must have got the jump on them somehow, and besides, now I know what he looks like," he said, trying to be upbeat.

"Well how did you know it was him that did it?" she asked and raised a brow.

"It's a long story and we're not a hundred percent sure – not yet."

"So really, don't worry about it," he said and patted her hand resting on the bar. "So how's business – better?"

She nodded a little animated nod. "Yeah, it's been alright."

"Charlie – is he working out?"

"He's doing pretty good – yeah," she said and looked puzzled by the questions.

"Good," he said and thought about his plans. The incident with Jerry and Ron had cast a dark shadow over his mood and he had thought of putting off the the idea of asking her to dinner. Still, the edgy feeling he had wouldn't go away and if anything it felt worse now. Maybe it was best to live life while you had one.

"I'll be working over the weekend," he said and paused. "But I owe you a meal," he said with a little bow of gratitude. "I was thinking – could you go for dinner – say... Thursday or Friday?"

Hannah briefly smiled at the question, but blue darting eyes betrayed her thoughts. She started to speak and then paused, leaving the answer floating in mid-air like a butterfly with sore feet.

"Sorry, but I have to close up," she finally said and Harry nodded solemnly.

_I guess she didn't care for my crack about avoiding relationships – oh well, good try old man._

"You see, I'd like to – but I promised Charlie he could have nights off this week," she said, apologetically. "Can I get a rain check?"

His heart lifted and then fell. He'd have to follow Penny's band after the weekend.

"Sure, but I'll be out of town after this weekend."

"Don't worry – I can wait," she said and cupped her left hand over his.

The canteen had just opened when Harry arrived for his morning cup of java. Quickly dressing the coffee he made his way through deserted marble halls toward the lifts. Thinking the crosswords would have to wait, he entered the lift and instructed the sleepy headed lift attendant to stop at Kingsley's office.

Passing under the gilded archway, Tracy Tolley was standing beside her desk and straightening her violet colored robes. The blonde head snapped around when she heard him.

"Morning..." came the response from the cute witch. She looked surprised.

"Good morning Tracy – is Kingsley in?"

"Well, of course Harry. He's with someone – but I'll tell him you're here," she said and disappeared into the hall leading to the large padded door. At some point in time, before Tracy had taken over the job of receptionist, the little teleprompter Quixwood invented was discarded in favor of a simpler means of communication. It seems the little bolt of electro-magical energy it created missed the hole at the top of the wall and arced over into a pile of papers. The ensuing fire it started was enough for Kingsley to rip out the whole contraption on both ends.

He took a seat in the waiting area and busied himself, looking through a copy of _Witch Weekly_.

The sound of muffled voices could be heard through the partially opened door. Tracy's heels could be heard clattering back toward her desk.

"He'll be available in a few minutes," she said and gave him a professional smile as she went over to the filing cabinet and took out a manilla folder big enough for A4 paper sizes. Thumbing through the contents, she shut the drawer with a little shove of her hips and returned to her desk.

He'd just finished an article on wizarding and Muggle residential areas around the city when the heavy padded door swung open with the unmistakeable sound of hinges straining.

Again footsteps, but heavier this time, were rudely breaking the silence of a quiet morning. Kingsley poked his head around the corner and motioned with a forefinger for Harry to follow. Curiously, Kingsley wanted him to join the party. He entered the warm wood paneled room and noticed black heels and shapely legs in slick navy blue hosiery were visible from the side of the huge leather chair in front of Kingsley's desk. A brown-haired head peeped around the side of the chair.

"Hello Harry."

"Morning Hermione!" Immediately, he guessed she was talking to Kingsley about the transfer. Kingsley moved another chair to the front of his desk.

"Hermione will be returning to Magical Law enforcement," Kingsley said. "for a length of time as she sees fit," he said with a smile.

"That's great news – welcome back Hermione," congratulated Harry.

"Well thanks Harry," she said with a wry smile.

"Yes, it's good news," Kingsley injected. "And not a minute too soon. Harry did you talk to the Crab Man?"

"Yes sir, I did."

"So how'd it go – did you get anything out of him?"

"Well, if what the Crab Man said is true – I've already seen this wizard."

"Merlin's Beard!" Kingsley exclaimed. "How is that possible?"

"Well, you know Hannah Abbot that took over the Leaky Cauldron when old Tom left?" he asked and Kingsley nodded.

"Sure..."

"She sent a note last week. It arrived the same morning Ron mentioned the assignment with Penny Penthane. In the note, Hannah said there was a creepy wizard hanging about the pub. And she requested help," Harry said and took a drink of cold coffee.

"And you went – did you file a report?" Kingsley asked.

"Well, no sir it was after work and I thought it was probably something small."

"After work – Harry you do crosswords all day – okay, go on."

"So, I get down there and find the man. He's still there. And I walk up to the table – he's a cool character alright. I tell him there's been complaints and ask him to leave. He asks me who I am and all that, then he makes a cute play by reaching inside his cloak – an old coarsely woven cloak," he says and reaches for another drink of cold coffee. Hermione and Kingsley are waiting, wide-eyed.

"I snap out a wand on him before the hand gets inside the cloak. He laughs at this and pulls out a Galleon and drops it on the table. And, he says goodnight and leaves," Harry said and rolled his shoulders into a shrug.

Kingsley looks suspiciously at Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Okay, so how does John figure into this?" he demanded.

Harry considered the question. Should he tell Kingsley the whole story?

"Apparently, they lost three men to this wizard as well. They were keeping an eye on him the same night I ran him out of the leaky Cauldron," Harry said calmly.

"Lost three men – how?" Kingsley asked.

Harry scratched his head. "They got into a scrap of some kind," he said convincingly.

"Yes, that's obvious Harry, but how does Penny figure into all this?" asked Hermione.

Harry paused before coughing up the rest. "He claims Penny Penthane hired them to get rid of the stalker."

"Did she tell you this?"

"No, she didn't."

"You need to get some firm answers on this," Kingsley said shaking his head. "Firm answers Harry."

"Yes sir, I'll make sure she explains it," he said, drawing a smile from Hermione.

"Yeah, that doesn't sound good Harry – she should have told you," Hermione said, glaring cautiously.

"Yeah, don't worry. I'll make her explain it," he said with solid resolution.

"Very good then," Kingsley added and slapped the desk.

"Harry, you're still training on a regular basis with Beollan?"

"Every week sir."

"Good. Hermione we'll have to get you involved in this as well. You were way overdue for self-defense training before you left," he scolded and pointed the pipe stem for emphasis.

"Yes sir, I understood that was part of the deal."

"Good – good. We'll try and make it up to you. They're cleaning up your new office now."

"That's good to hear," she said and looked at Harry with a curt grin.

"So, Harry," Kingsley announced. "I know we don't provide bodyguards, but maybe you better go along with Penny's band. If you can get away from those crosswords?"

"I think I can," Harry said facetiously.

"Good – but be careful. We still don't know what we're dealing with."

"Yes, sir," he said, rising from the chair.

Hermione also started also to rise.

"Hermione – just a minute. A couple of things I'd like to discuss."

Harry left the room, wondering what else Kingsley needed to discuss.

* * *

A/N: The story started rather slow, but I can see the numbers growing. I know it's hard to get too excited about a suspenseful story when the chapters trickle out every two weeks.

Thanks for reading and remember to review.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **A big thanks for input from Ducks_Go_Aflack and DeviantDemon. And much gratitude for the new follows and fav's.

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta**

**Chapter 5.**

'I'm sorry, I'm terribly busy. I'm having the band over Thursday - before we go on tour.'

'I'll just take a minute - I promise.'

'I'm sorry Harry. It'll have to be Thursday. Can you make it?'

'I'll try.'

'Good - I've got to go. Bye.'

'Bye,' he said, and the mobile screen flashed back to the dull department wallpaper. The call was two days ago, but it still struck him as brief and cold.

The perspiration he felt under the collar was not all due to the scorching heat. The long hours of training to blend into Muggle environments would be severely tested tonight. He was very good with most public areas, like train depots and airports. He could be very convincing in most businesses and restaurants. But a social event with strangers was tricky. Guests were expected to mingle and simple conversation could turn difficult. Questions about where he went to school or university were the ones he hated most. If you made something up, there was always the chance the person you were fibbing to might have attended the same school and then things would get very tricky. He still had bad feelings about the last time that technique back-fired. The trick, if you got caught, was to suddenly pretend to remember the person and take off on a long story – one so boring the poor listener would be running for cover.

The evening air was falling and birds celebrated the lower temperatures with short chirpy calls. Fresh-faced couples were sporting bright smiles as they hurried along toward an evening on the town. A young blonde in spandex leggings under a cool cotton top was walking a diamond collared dog. Harry thought of the dishwater blonde at the Leaky Cauldron and wondered where they might have gone to dinner – and wondered about the evening afterward and what it might have been like. She promised she would wait until he returned. And she said it like she meant it.

He was still thinking of Hannah as he started to breeze by the street doormen. They were more polite than the last lot but also more professional.

"Excuse me sir," the big doorman said. "You'll have to be cleared."

"Oh, okay – it's Harry Potter – to see Penny, uh Electra Penthane," he said, with a tone of annoyance. He cursed under his breath at not being able to apparate to her terrace.

"One moment," the big fellow replied and removed a two-way from a small leather holster on his hip. The doorman repeated Harry's name and a staticky voice on the other end gave him the go-ahead.

The opposite doorman opened the door for Harry to pass and nodded. Neither guard said another word and Harry proceeded to the lifts and through the foyer to Penny's door. He rang the bell and wondered if he should have brought a gift – a bottle of wine or something. He quickly dismissed the thought as stupidly inappropriate. A moment later, the guard opened the door and stood there waiting for some kind of announcement.

"I'm Harry Potter."

"And we're _waiting_ for you Mister Potter," the doorman quipped and motioned for Harry to follow. Disregarding the cute remark, Harry took keen notice of the huge guard. He was enormously built and also had that ex-military look about him. He followed the guard through the hallway until voices and laughter began to grow louder. The trail of chatter led to a congregation of revelers on the terrace. The lights were turned lowand much softer than his last visit. On a far wall, a curtain was drawn to expose a large flat-screened videotron. The audio was turned down low as it played a colorful recording of the band, somewhere on tour. Having never been to a large concert, he paused to take in the recording.

"She's on the terrace," the guard said impatiently and disappeared.

"Thanks."

Finally breaking away from the video, he excused his way through the guests and onto the terrace. It was turning out to be a beautiful clear evening as the pale sky was deepening to a royal blue. The air was sweet with the smell of growing things. City lights were just beginning to stand out. There were candles in paper globes and rows of Christmas lights woven through the potted trees on the terrace. A makeshift bar was set up and the barman was wiping the bar with a white towel while glancing up for guests. Feeling a beer might knock off the edge, he drifted over to the bar.

"What'll it be mate?" the pony-tailed bartender looked up to ask.

"You got a beer?"

"Loads!" said the barman. "Brodies Amarilla, Camden Town Hells Lager, Twickenham Naked Ladies, Fullers, Bass, Guinness, Innis and Gunn..." he said and went on to name a few more beers that Americans think the Brits drink.

"Yeah, you do. Let me try a Naked Lady," he replied with a nod.

"Ah, good choice, and hard to find" he said and pulled a dripping wet bottle out of an ice bucket and dried it with the towel. He flipped off the top with a quick swipe of the opener.

Harry thanked the man and panned the terrace for Penny. She was standing in a far corner and talking with a musician, judging by his hair and style of dress. She was laughing and leaning against the railing with a drink, topped with a little red umbrella. She looked damned comfortable in tight jeans, heels and a silky grey blouse that had a hint of silver and a script monogram over her left breast. Very becoming against the raven-black hair. He approached casually and with as much confidence as he could muster. At first she didn't notice him, and his feeling of insecurity ratcheted up a notch.

Harry did his best to chill and took a long pull of the beer, holding the bottle, American style, with his forefinger wrapped around the neck. He stood there enjoying the view until she finally looked his way and made solid eye contact. Raising a finger to encourage the man doing all the talking to pause, she smiled and faced Harry.

"Glad you could make it Harry," she said. "Let me introduce one of the country's finest percussionist. Harry this is Ace Varney – Ace, meet Harry Potter."

Ace extended a hand, heavily adorned with rings and a gold bracelet. Ace was wearing pre-faded, pre-wrinkled, and pre-everything designer jeans and a silk print shirt.

"Good to meet you Potter," he said, and made a show of studying Harry's blue blazer and Khaki trousers.

"Nice to meet you," Harry said as he reached for the rocker's hand.

"Are you in the music business Potter?"

"Well... no... eh..."

"He's a security consultant," Penny quickly injected and Harry nodded.

"_Security_ hey, feel safer already – I do," Ace quipped.

"Harry, let me show you around – hang on that last thought Ace," she said and pulled Harry by the arm.

Standing just a few steps away, Penny pushed him toward another rocker. With a shirt unbuttoned to nearly the navel he was decked out with loads of bling around his neck and another pair of designer jeans. He was smiling – everyone here was smiling.

"Harry this is Rob Carver – Bass and vocals."

Rob turned to flash a smile at Penny and finally took notice of Harry.

"Hello Harry..." he said and then quickly went back to chatting up a cute red-head.

Harry nodded. "Nice to meet you," he replied and could feel Penny pushing him in the back again.

They nodded and hellowed a few more guests and pushed on to greet two more rockers, a lot like the first. They were Beatty and Marco. Both of these gents were labeled by Penny as 'guitar, keyboards and vocals'.

"_POTTER_..." Marco hailed as if Harry was a long lost friend and clumsily reached for his hand. Harry shook the hand and smelled strong liquor.

Once again Harry could feel Penny giving him a little nudge on the back.

"I've got a office in the back," she said in his ear.

"Sure..."

They ducked into a another entryway off the sitting room and Penny opened a door to her office. Inside were framed band pictures on the walls and a large modern desk and desktop computer. Off to one side of the office was a fashionable exercise bike and a treadmill. Another flat-screen, much smaller than the first, hung on the wall opposite the desk.

"So – Harry, glad you could make it. I'll get to your questions in a moment. But first, I've prepared a little cover for you," she said and in a much livelier mood than his first visit.

"That's good – who am I?"

"You're a security consultant – a bit of an expert. I've told my security guys I've been getting nasty emails and that sort of thing."

"I see – a computer nurd huh?"

"Not exactly but close – hopefully this way you won't step on any toes," she said, pleased with the cover she had invented. There was a noticeable pause as Harry prepared for a few tough questions. Penny appeared to notice the downturn in his demeanor, which was a big contrast from the mindless gaiety outside.

"But you had some questions – right?" she asked and lost the smile.

"Yes Penny, I did. It's about the three thugs you hired to get rid of your stalker. Any of this ring a bell?"

Her warm expression quickly turned cold. She looked at Harry as if he'd dumped a load of ice cubes in her bath water.

"Not really..." she said at length. She was beautiful. Even when she pursed her lips and squinted her eyes.

"Not _really_?"

"No, not really. _Who_ said I did?" she asked curiously.

"John Shortals. He's a petty crime kingpin around the city – and he's seldom wrong," Harry said with a firm expression.

She thought for a moment before answering. "I'm concerned with how to answer this – the legality of it, that is."

"So... you did hire them?"

"_No_, I gave them money. And I never saw them again. That's all there was to it," she protested.

"Well... you never saw them again because they disappeared," he explained.

"Disappeared? I thought they just ran off with my money," she said with a little pout.

"No they disappeared – as in off the face of the earth," he said, rather coldly.

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I had no idea Harry or I would have mentioned it – you must believe me – Okay?" she said and made an animated little face.

"Sure, I believe you – just wish you had told me first."

"Again, I'm sorry. I found them through a old friend. I paid them half the money up front to get rid of this creep. Well – when they didn't show back up, I figured I'd just been played," she said, lugubriously.

Harry nodded but remained silent.

"What's a girl to do? I was really too embarrassed to mention it – the way they ran off with my money," she added. "The whole thing happened long before I spoke to Kingsley."

"Well, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. You got your money's worth," he added dryly.

"That's a horrible thing to say. This whole thing is turning into a tragedy," she said and looked sharply away.

Harry could tell he was quickly ruining her evening.

"Well..." he said. "I'm not here to make you feel like shit, but I had to ask," he added in a softer tone. "I'm here to help you, but I'm also here to get the bastard that damn near murdered two of my friends."

Now it was Penny's turn to remain silent, and she looked at Harry studiously for several long moments. Digging the little red umbrella out of her glass, she turned up the drink for one last swallow. She leaned back in the chair and threw her heels up on the desk. Her legs ran on like the Golden Gate bridge.

"Can you do it Harry?" she asked quizzically. " Can you take this guy alone?"

"I think so. If I need help I can get it," he said, matter of factly.

"But, by that time it may..." she said and stopped in mid-sentence. "Oh what the hell. It's your job," she added and smiled.

"Yes, it is."

Penny spun her feet off the desk and threw the decorative drink glass away, all in one move.

"We'll be playing at the Scala-London over the weekend. The equipment lorrys will get there Friday afternoon and I should be arriving around four or five" she said.

Harry nodded. "Okay."

"We'll start the sound check around six. The warm up band should begin shortly. You should try and be there by then."

Harry nodded again. "That won't be a problem."

"Be ready for a long night. It was late after the show when your friends... well... you know what I mean," she explained.

Harry nodded grimly. "What about after the show?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"This is your call, but after the show and if there's no one at your place – I could apparate back to the terrace. Now – with any luck, I might catch this bastard snooping around," he asked gingerly. "I'll leave after your lights come back on so as not to intrude, of course," he thought to add and flushed slightly.

"Well of course," she quickly replied and smiled. "There's a doorman, but he never checks the back," she added and reached for a phone. She pressed a button and waited for an answer. She looked slightly perturbed when there was no immediate answer.

"Are you guys _asleep_?"

"Can you step in here for a moment. There's someone here I want you to meet."

"Thanks," she said and dropped the handset back in the cradle.

"I'll introduce you to my security guards – good lot really."

"Fine."

Penny walked closer to the door and it swung open and returned to the chair. The two guards followed and stood in front of the desk, arms behind them.

"Guys, I want you to meet Harry Potter," she said and both turned to look at Harry.

"Hello," they chorused.

"Harry this is Jimbo and Harley," she said, pointing at each man.

"Nice to meet you," Harry said.

"Harry here, is a bit of a security specialist in certain areas. He'll be following the show as a consultant," she carefully explained.

"What? You don't feel safe with us?" quipped Harley.

"It's not like that guys – your position is the same, and you still report to me. Harry will be coming aboard for some other issues."

"Consultant huh? Well I hope he's better than the last two," Jimbo added with a laugh.

"Hey, none of that now," Penny barked. "Okay, back to work, or sleeping, or whatever you two do."

The big men nodded with bigger grins and left the room. Penny shook her head and smiled.

"I've tried to arrange this so as not to offend these guys." she said with a shrug. "But we'll have to work around this as best we can."

"I understand, and I hope it's not a problem," Harry said dryly.

‡‡‡‡‡

"Begin!", Beollan barked the order as Harry and Beollan circled one another like two cats. A few small curses arced from Beollan's wand to test Harry's defenses. The wizards were practicing in the old dueler's fashion. They were both shirtless and bare from the waist up with the exception of silk bands tied around each wrist. They were practicing a two wand drill. Two wand fighting had been for many years an almost forgotten endeavor until Harry insisted he practice with Snape's old wand in addition to his own. Now he was sure Beollan preferred it to single stick fighting.

Finally a real curse. An attack and counter attack, and now both wands were popping fire. Both wizards were showing red whelps where the effects of the stinging jinxes had gotten through. They had been fighting like this, on and off, for an hour with no apparent victor.

Beollan was considered to be one of the best wandsmen in all of Europe and their practice was about even. With superior technique on his side Beollan should be a cinch to prevail. But the black wand Harry used would, more often than not, make up the difference. There were two theories on this: One, the black wand protected Harry just as its previous owner had done. And two: It was connected to a darker and more aggressive side of the young wizard.

Either way, its magic had prevailed on this day as Harry was obviously getting the better of it and Beollan called a halt to the action. They put their wands away and walked to the center of the room to shake hands. Like after a lighting storm, there was a heavy and sweet smell of Ozone in the air.

"Good practice today – don't know if it's you or that wand, but it works," Beollan said with drops of sweat rolling off the ends of the handlebar mustache.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Harry said with a smile.

"I hope I don't have to dress like that," said a female voice. The two quickly turned to see Hermione gawking at the two bare chested duelers glistening with perspiration. Never being late for anything, Hermione was about ten minutes early for the beginners class starting on the next hour.

"You'll have to excuse us Hermione," Beollan said with a grin. "But you're a little early."

Beollan grabbed a towel and threw one at Harry as he left the practice room for his office. Harry quickly dried off and draped the towel around his neck.

"It looks intense," Hermione said pensively.

"Don't fret, the beginning class will use the long piste over there," Harry said, pointing to the side of the room. "For the two-wand drill, Beollan and I have gradually widened our boundaries to use the whole room."

"Hmm... Fascinating," she said, dryly.

Harry laughed at her obvious disinterest. "Hey, have you heard anything about Ron?"

"Ginny sent some post – he's doing better, and he conscious now," she said.

"Does he remember anything?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so – It'll take some time. You should go see him."

"Sure – I just hoped he might he might remember something – before the weekend that is," he said.

"Before the weekend?"

"Yeah, Penny's band plays this weekend."

"And you'll be going along I take it?" she asked, rhetorically.

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"Well, be careful Harry. And have a good time," she replied, facetiously.

‡‡‡‡‡

The sleeping draught Kreacher prepared for him had worked its magic. While not without a few drawbacks, the extra sleep the potion gave him should help stay awake for the long evening.

The Scala-London was an impressive musical venue with a long street frontage and a corner entrance in the apex of Pentonville and Caledonian Roads in central London; just a hop and skip from King's Cross Station. The building was a four level art-deco arrangement with a tall tower looming over the corner entrance. The rear of the building decomposed into a scattered yard and narrow alley boundaries. The back lot, if you could call it that, was a alley that terminated in a small knob. A security nightmare.

He made it a point to arrive early and thoroughly case out the joint. He checked out the perimeter of the property first and made himself aware of every little nook and cranny. He drifted in the front entrance with a security pass Penny had given him. The more than ample bouncers gave him a few hard looks as he prowled around. One bouncer, that looked like a sumo wrestler in a suit two sizes too small, had been keeping a close eye on him since he arrived.

Following a brief chat with Penny about tactics, it was agreed it might be best if he just mill about the floor and keep an eye on the stage. With the sporadic lighting during the show, little visibility could be expected from the side stage itself. Besides, Harley and Jimbo would be posted there to escort unruly guests off stage.

After the warm-up band had finished, the customers began to drift in, in greater numbers. The venue spokesperson introduced the band as 'Bells of Elysium' and Electra Penthane, to the applause of a houseful of guests.

About an hour into the show, everything appeared to be going very smooth. He'd taken a position well in back of the crowd on a small balcony with a good view of the floor. As he looked over the crowd he noticed a few goths but there was no sign of the hooded and cloaked wizard.

In addition to her four-octave voice, Penny was one of the few singing rock leads that had any real training in dance. Her moves on stage were hypnotic as she could move like an odalisque on opium.

_Damnit, keep your mind on the job Harry._

With the constant din, the smell of smoke, sweat, and alcohol overloading his tender senses, he crawled down off the balcony to take a look outside.

Grabbing a coke on ice at the bar, he pushed on to investigate the lobby and then out on the street. Nothing much going on – normal traffic and a few curious walkers. Going back into the show, he carefully negotiated the crowded wooden floor and prowled around backstage until he found the door out to the yard. The cool air felt good as he took a deep breath and let his eyes adjust to the dim light.

After the few minutes it took his eyes to adjust to the light, he noticed the back door open and the sumo bouncer walked out onto the yard. He was searching but didn't spot Harry off in the corner. After a another minute or two, the eyes of the bouncer were locked on the spot where Harry was standing. The bouncer was easily two and a half times Harry's body weight. If Harry were a Muggle he wouldn't stand a chance. There was something about Harry the bouncer didn't like – something he saw that rubbed him the wrong way. Perhaps Harry reminded him of a kid that made fun of him in school. Maybe a guy like Harry had stole his best girl. Or he simply wanted to pound his head in the pavement for fun. It could be a million things, but the look from the bouncer said it all. The yard was, or had been, a good hiding place to hunt the wizard. If the bouncer came looking for trouble he was going to find it.

"What you doing back here?" asked the bulging bouncer.

"Well, it's not for the weather – I'm security with the band – so beat it," Harry said, sternly.

"You little git..." he said and started toward Harry.

Harry winched, drawing all the muscles in his body tightly in a sudden flinch. An aura of wandless energy erupted in a wave toward the fat bouncer. It was a trick he and Beollan practiced often, and a handy gimmick to know if a big man was about to get his hands on you. The bouncer was hurled backwards to land on his arse. The big man sat there, astonished. The surprised look was immediately replaced with one of anger as he started back up. The man got to his feet in a flash and took another step toward Harry. Harry felt the tingling fingers of his left hand embrace the handle of the black wand. A curious pink light erupted from the tip and hit the big man in the groin. Like a spinning back-kick to the nuts, the bouncer was down on his knees, holding on to himself.

"Get back inside," Harry ordered. "Don't speak to me or even _look_ at me again this evening. Do you understand?"

The man grunted, still on the ground.

"I'll take that for a yes," he said "NOW GO."

The big man struggled to his feet; doubled over in pain, he ran toward towards the door. He as still holding his nuts when he disappeared back inside.

The evening went by without further incident, and he never saw any sign of the cloaked wizard. The big bouncer would be too embarrassed to mention anything of what happened in the yard. Well into the morning, the show finally broke up. Harry stood by the Mercedes and watched Penny exit from the rear of the building. She had changed from the shiny black stage costume into street clothes. She smiled politely and said goodnight and then quickly ducked inside the car. He watched the Mercedes disappear around the corner and then cased the perimeter of the Scala, just one more time.

From the secluded yard behind the venue building, he focused on the dark corner of the terrace behind Penny's flat. Like being pulled back like a rubber band and suddenly let go, he went spiraling through space, like being shot through a tube. A moment later he was standing on the terrace. Quietly, he walked over to the dimly lit corner and pulled out an old friend from his rucksack. He tossed the invisibility cloak over his head, made himself as comfortable as possible, and waited.

Thirty minutes later, there were sounds and lights from inside Penny's flat. He'd promised Penny he'd leave the terrace when she returned home. But now, hidden under the invisibility cloak, he knew he couldn't do that. Protecting her had been only a part of this job. The other part was catching or killing the wizard that took down his friends. And the best way to do that was to stay right where he was. Besides, it was best she didn't know he was there. After a few minutes, Penny came to the glass doors, peeped out curiously and then let the blinds down. She left the room and a few minutes came back in a short dressing gown. The slats were not tilted fully closed and he could see Penny move over to the bar. She fixed herself a drink and then flashed a silvery video disk into the player and turned toward the window carrying the glass and a remote control. She sank down in a large leather chair, stretching her long legs out on a footstool. He could make out an old black and white Humphrey Bogart film on the large flat-screen. While Penny got up to refill her drink, Bogie was joined onscreen by some femme fatale Harry couldn't place.

An uncomfortable hour had passed before he quietly moved to a chair with the cloak still draped over his head. Under the cloak, the air was balmy and his eyelids were growing heavy and tired. He wasn't really sure if he had been asleep when he heard the cry of a jay and the beating of wings. It was one of those moments when consciousness kicks in, and you find yourself fully awake. He looked around the terrace from inside the cloak but saw nothing. He looked to the blinds and saw Penny still inside on the chair. Probably asleep. The dressing gown was partially open and her right arm was dangling off the armrest. The Warner Brothers logo was signaling the end of the film.

Then a shadow to his left interrupted the scene. Slowly the whole figure melted into view. Like the grey spectre, the dark cloaked figure moved to a position between him and the edge of the windows. His head hidden by the hood, he was looking into sitting room at the raven-haired sleeping beauty.

Quietly, Harry eased up out of the chair. He stood motionless for a few moments until the tingling in his legs stopped and the circulation resumed. The dark wizard was staring intently into the room at Penny. He had moved to the corner of the building and no longer directly in front of the glass. There was a slight rustling sound as the invisibility cloak fell to the floor. His heart was pounding in his chest as the black wand jumped from the lapel pocket to the now extended left hand.

The wizard quickly turned to look as the brilliant green jet of a curse erupted from the tip of Harry's wand to split the darkness.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger, but thanks for reading and remember to review.


	6. Chapter 6

**Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta**

**Chapter 6.**

With eyes acclimated to the dark, the flash of the curse left Harry momentarily blinded. What he saw, or thought he saw when the flash dimmed, was hard to believe. The wizard appeared to stretch horizontally until he became two, and the curse went between the two images, striking the corner of Penny's flat. When the smoke cleared, the wizard was nowhere in sight.

Temporarily confused and with a mind for defense, Harry went to guard with the Holly wand, now wielded by his right hand.

"Protego." A plume of defensive energy erupted from the Holly wand while he made ready the black wand for the Expelliarmus, which would be the only remedy for the green jet of the Avada Kadavra. Standing motionless in the evening darkness he craned in search for the hooded wizard. All he could see from the dark corner of the terrace was thin air. Nothing at all. The wizard must have apparated away after managing to evade the first attack.

Penny's flat was not so lucky. The corner of the building where the wizard had been standing was now disfigured with a smoldering hole the size of your fist. He glanced toward the glass doors and could see Penny standing up now. He carefully took several steps into a well-lit area of the terrace and waved sheepishly. One more quick check confirmed the threat was gone and he stepped toward the doors. Penny was holding her short gown together tightly to make up for the few moments it had been hanging open. She raised the blinds, unlatched the door and tentatively took a step out onto the terrace.

"Harry – what the hell? I thought you were cutting out when we got back?" she said and straightened the crumpled black hair.

"Sorry..." he said and went back for the invisibility cloak. "I couldn't leave. And I spotted your wizard."

"So, you saw him," she said, shaking hair away from her eyes.

"Yeah, he was right there," he said and pointed to the black patch on the wall.

"_Okay_," she said and frowned when she spotted the hole. "Then what happened then?"

"I don't know," Harry said and scratched his ear in puzzlement. "He just vanished."

"Disapparated?"

"Damned if I know – after the smoke cleared, he was gone."

They looked at each other quizzically while Penny clutched at the dressing gown."

"Sorry about the wall," he said at length.

Penny looked at the wall and back at Harry and finally smiled.

"Well... will you come inside for coffee?" she asked and motioned inside with her head.

The proper thing would be to leave now, but there was nothing proper about the sight of Penny standing there in the short gown that barely covered the goal line.

"Yeah, I guess so," he heard himself say.

Once inside, Penny excused herself for a moment and came back out with a full-length dressing gown with a functioning belt.

"Colombian, Irish crème, or French roast," she announced. "Any of those work for you?"

"Hey, you don't have to go to all that trouble," he said and thinking now he should have left.

"It's no trouble – see," she said and lifted little individual brew cup dispensers.

"Colombian then," he said and grinned.

Penny opened the machine and inserted a little brew cup. Immediately, steamy water began to dispense and the smell of coffee filled the room. She handed Harry a cup and started one of her own. Tightening the belt on the gown, she dressed her coffee and returned to the big leather chair.

"What was the wizard doing – when you attacked, that is?"

"He was looking at you – checking you out."

"Oh, I see... was I the bait?"

"I wouldn't exactly say it like that," Harry said with a grin. "But you were fetching," he heard himself say and flushed slightly.

"Imagine. All that drama – right on the terrace. He just disappeared, you said?" she said in a chatty way and sipped the coffee.

"Yeah, he just split apart – the curse missed him and then he was gone," Harry said shaking his head.

"What does that mean," she asked, and looked concerned.

"It means he no ordinary stalker – wouldn't you say?" he asked and tested the coffee.

"I don't have much experience with stalkers - magical or otherwise. How tough is this wizard? In your experience, that is?" she asked tentatively.

"I don't know – he could be a tough bastard to kill."

"Oh," she said while changing the handle of the coffee cup to the other hand. "Did you get it cleared with Kingsley to follow us on tour?"

"Yes. I did. Where are we going by the way?"

"Amsterdam – have you been there?"

"Yeah, last summer on vacation," he quipped and Penny shot him a face. "No, of course not. Romania was my last vacation spot."

"That sounds fun," she said, managing to stay upbeat

"Yeah, I'll have to tell you about it sometimes."

"Well. You'll be ready by next Tuesday then," she said and put the cup away.

Harry nodded and then stared at the bottom of the empty coffee cup.

"Sorry about the wall – but I'll get your stalker," he said solemnly.

"I'm sure you will," she said, encouragingly. "What he did to your friends has really ground your gears hasn't it?"

Harry stood up, obviously to leave. "Yeah. You can say that again."

‡‡‡‡‡

He'd immediately apparated to Grimmauld Place after leaving Penny's flat. Sleeping like a rock, it was almost one o'clock before he managed to get up for coffee. Kreacher was furious with his new schedule. There was something out of place with the whole story of Penny's stalker. And maybe something Penny wasn't telling him, but the wizard was certainly no ordinary stalker or peeping Tom. Maybe Ron could remember something. Anything could help.

He was a few moments away from the magical entrance to St. Mungo's at Purge and Dowse, Ltd. Stopping to pan around for any onlookers and seeing none, he quickly stepped through the charmed entryway and entered the hospital. It was the same receptionist as last time, a prissy little brunette.

"Ron Weasley – is he still in 305?" Harry asked.

"Oh no sir. He's been moved," she said and flipped through a little book. "It's room 117 – just down this hall on your left sir," she added and pointed with a pencil she pulled from her hair.

"Thanks," he said and managed a smile.

Navigating the long antiseptic hall to room 117, he peeped in the door to see Ron reading the morning _Daily Prophet_ over coffee.

"Never thought you'd go that far to get out of work," Harry said and grinned.

"Harry... damn good to see you," Ron said and laid the paper on the bed.

"Damn good to see you mate – how you feel today? Okay?" asked Harry.

"Better. A lot better, I can tell you that," he said nodding. "But for a while there it was pretty rough."

Except for the Hair that had been singed off, Ron looked almost normal now.

"Well you look better. I can tell you that," Harry said and Ron smiled and nodded.

"Hermione tells me you're on the case and she's back in Law Enforcement," Ron said and reached for the coffee.

"That's pretty much the story alright," Harry said as he found a chair along the side of Ron's bed.

Ron looked suddenly nervous. "Harry... I know what you're going to ask. And I wish so very much I could help..." Ron dipped and shook his head.

"Do you remember anything at all mate?" Harry pleaded.

Again, Ron shook his head. "Not much. Not much at all. I do remember Penny getting into the limo – a big Mercedes I think."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

"I remember seeing Jerry motion me aside – and then it all goes blank," He said, sorrowfully. "Sometimes I have dreams – bad dreams, you know. And images come to mind, but I don't know if they're real."

"Oh I see. Well... I saw the bastard last night," Harry injected, not really sure what effect it would have on Ron.

"You saw him – so what Happened Harry?" he asked through a grim expression.

"I fired a curse at him. It was dark. I couldn't see too well, but it looked like he split apart. Like he became two. The curse missed him and he vanished," he said and waved his arms in wonder.

Ron sat quiet for a moment as if meditating on the last from Harry.

"That's almost like a dream I had. So... maybe I do remember something after all," he said.

"Yeah?"

"But that's all really – not much more," he added, solemnly.

"Keep working on it mate. I'm sure more will come back," Harry said, trying to be cheerful.

"Yeah, I'm sure it will," Ron said and smiled.

"If you get bored, I have a pile of crosswords you can have," he said and they both laughed.

‡‡‡‡‡

"Well now – this is what I call moving up," Harry said, looking around the interior of Hermione's new office.

"What – compared to that closet I had before," Hermione replied.

"So what do think of the case. I know you're looking at it?" Harry asked as he inspected a volume on the shelf.

Hermione was moving books from a cardboard box to a shelf behind her desk.

"Harry, I really haven't," she said at length.

"Oh come on, you mean Kingsley didn't ask?"

"I didn't say that. Just mean I haven't looked it over yet," she corrected him.

"Oh, I see. Well what did Kingsley's ask you about – the other day?"

"Just some general things really. So how long are you in town?"

"The band is leaving Tuesday."

"And where to – may I ask?"

"Amsterdam. You ever been there?" he asked and furrowed his brows.

"Of course not – have you?"

"No – never. And I really don't know much about Amsterdam," he confessed.

Hermione suddenly paused to reflect and dug a book out of the box.

"Here, take this. It might help," she said and handed the book to Harry.

The title read, 'Classical Cities of the World'.

"I think Amsterdam is in that one," she added.

"Didn't think you were interested in worldly places," he said and thumbed through the book.

"Not terribly – that's why I'm giving it to you," she said and grinned.

"Well, thanks. I'll check it out," he said, unconvincingly and rose from the chair.

"Enjoy Amsterdam Harry, and be careful," she said with a wry grin.

"See ya later and don't work too hard," he said and shuffled off toward the Auror office.

Hermione's excuse for not digging into the case was weak and unconvincing. And he didn't buy into it. Not a bit. Kingsley must have given her instructions. And whatever the instructions were, they weren't for Harry's ears. The Auror cubicles were a quiet and lonely place now. He threw the remaining crosswords on the floor and delved into the chapter on Amsterdam.

‡‡‡‡‡

"Grand Hotel... Krasnapolsky," Harry said, reading the note to the English speaking Taxi driver.

"Very good sir," the man said and pressed the time counter button.

Electing not to travel with the band, Harry arrived by portkey to the Netherlands then hunted for a taxi to take him into the heart of Amsterdam. Passing by the many concentric canals around the city, he hoped they wouldn't turn out to be Dante's rings. He tried to push the thought out of his mind. He was just a little nervous being so far from his home turf, he thought. Anyway, the city was beautiful. Not at all like London.

"How long are you staying?" the driver asked, doing his best to be pleasant.

"For a few days. I'm security for a band playing this week," he said. The driver looked at him a little suspiciously.

"Yeah – what band is that?"

"Electra Penthane and Bells of Elysium ," Harry said, defensively. The man's eyes lit up with that tidbit of information.

"Hey I know them – yeah she's hot," he said with a little twinkle in his eye and fat lipping a cigarette.

"Yes she is," Harry said with a little sigh.

He paid the fair and tipped the driver while two bellhops scurried over to help with bags. They insisted they help with the meager luggage and directed Harry to the desk attendant. The concierge was just in front of the hotel entrance and the desks were just a little further along on the right.

"Your room won't be ready until three Mister Potter," the pretty blonde attendant informed him. "We can hold your bags until your room is ready," she added while entering the information into a computer. "Please feel free to enjoy our lounge and dining facilities," she said with a welcoming smile.

"Thank you," he said. "And check back around three?"

"Yes sir. We should have your room ready then."

"Oh by the way," he stopped and said. "I'm with the 'Bells of Elysium' staff. Has any of the band arrived yet?"

The girl looked at him curiously. "I haven't seen them. Perhaps another attendant?" she said with a shrug.

The first order of business would be casing the building and the surrounding area. The hotel was a rather spacious affair on five levels. The two front sides of the hotel were located in a street corner with an alley down the remaining side off the front. Nice and clean. No problem here. The back of the hotel was a different story. There were tables in a garden in the back for drinking and dining. If someone wanted to slip inside that would be the way you'd expect them. Of course a wizard could enter about any way he chose. But even a wizard wouldn't apparate into a crowd of guests.

He wasn't particularly hungry, but a bit of lunch would help kill some time while he waited the two hours for the room. As it turned out, the garden cafe in the back was the only hotel restaurant serving anything less than a three course meal. It was somewhat isolated and quiet. The perfect place for a couple to enjoy a meal and drinks in a cozy environment. Suddenly the scene was depressing. The street would be the place for a man to get a proper meal.

Not too far down the street he settled on lunch at Gaucho's. Mostly grilled food with an obvious Argentine flair. He settled on fish soup and a salad with a local beer to wash it down. Sitting at a table by the street, he felt a long way from Diagon Alley. People seemed the same, perhaps a little more festive, but that made him feel even more uncomfortable. He couldn't allow himself to be lulled into torpidity, and by forcing himself to stay on the edge he felt uneasy.

How many wizards were in Amsterdam, he wondered. Were there any on the street now? He panned around looking for signs and finding none. He almost laughed at the silly attempt, but then looked again. He looked deeply into every little detail. For a moment he felt like a vampire character in an Ann Rice novel, looking for other vampires and finding none.

There were a couple of ways to spot another witch or wizard but it wasn't easy. Ms. Rosemarkie had tried to beat this into his head in her fiery lectures at the Ministry. For one: all wizards and witches carried a wand. It was like a link to their soul and they never left home without it. Sometimes, the presence of the wand would betray their identity if you knew how to look for it. A piece of clothing would wrinkle in the wrong way or not wrinkle at all. Men carried them in different places than women, so the trick required looking in the right places. And two: Wizards and witches were generally out of their element in a Muggle world. Even if they were comfortable in a non-magical environment, which most were not, they would pay too much attention to trivialities and the nonessential – like when Author Weasley asked him about the function of a rubber duck. Of course a Muggle would know its value is childish amusement and that it has no real function, but Author didn't know that. If you threw a rubber duck on the street then a Muggle and a wizard might give two very different reactions. Of course you had to look hard for these subtleties. And you couldn't be caught doing it. You had to look like you weren't looking, or you would be the one to stand out to another wizard. And perhaps an enemy would spot you and get the jump on you and maybe kill you. But this is what Harry was trained to do. Working in Muggle and international environments was his job now. But this was first time for the Netherlands, but there was always a first time. The trick was living through it.

"Oh, Mister Potter," the cute desk attendant called out.

"Yes," he replied with a soft smile.

"The band... the band you're with. They're here," she said and smiled professionally.

"Thank you. Have they been here long?"

"Oh, no sir," she said. "Just a few moments ago. And your room is ready. Room 305 sir," she said and handed him a little folder and key-card.

Harry thanked the girl and started away with the little bundle.

"Oh, almost forgot – there's a note," she said and handed him a small ivory envelope.

"Well thanks terribly," he said, smiling and leaving the desk and pretty attendant behind him.

He took half a dozen steps toward the lift and ran into Jimbo, one of Penny's guards.

"Well hello there... Potter, right?"

"Good afternoon... Jimbo isn't it?" he said and the big man's smile vanished.

"Yeah, didn't figure you'd already be here," he said and raised a brow. "Just exactly what is it you do for Penny anyway?" he asked. The big man stood there, blocking Harry's way to the lift. Jimbo's melon shaped face was turning pink. His crew-cut scalp was furrowed with concentration. The suit jacket looked a size too small.

"Well, Jimbo... that's kind of between me and her, but it is related to security. And it's really none of your business," Harry explained.

"Look, let me tell you one thing here," he said, shoving a finger in Harry's face. "Harley and me take's care of Penny. So it damn well _is_ our business," he said with the face was growing red.

Harry stood there as if having a disagreement with a child. He was cool and calm, much to the chagrin of Jimbo who was growing angrier.

"Well Jimbo," Harry said and looking around the big man toward the lift. "You're blocking my way," he said and motioned toward the lift.

Jimbo clenched his teeth and stormed off. Taking the lift to the third level, Harry found room 305 and slid the key card in the slot until the green light was shining. He unlatched the handle and peered in before entering. The room had that 'just been cleaned' smell and his garment bag and rucksack were laying on the bed.

He almost forgot the note and threw it on the dresser. Thinking it might be important he went back and tore it open.

Harry,

We'll be having a little kickoff and dinner get together

tonight at 6:00. Not sure where now, but the desk

will direct you.

Don't be late.

Thanks,

Penny.

A little get together – well that should be interesting as he thought about the encounter with Jimbo. The guy was fanatically protective it seemed. Or something like that.

He showered early so as to arrive in the lobby at five o'clock. He prowled the hotel and grounds for a quick security check before arriving at the desk at a quarter to six.

A young male attendant had replaced the cute blonde at the desk.

"Can I help you sir?" he asked, eagerly.

"Yes. Miss Penthane's band – I believe they're dining somewhere?"

"Oh yes sir. At the Reflet – just right down the hall behind you sir," he said.

"Thanks," Harry said and nodded.

The 'Reflet' as the attendant said was not the kind of place you'd expect to see hard rockers gathered together for an evening out. The place was ornately arranged with gilded ceiling and columns and looked like something out of 'La Belle Epoque'. He could make out Ace, Beatty, and Marco sampling the hors d'oeuvres and stylishly dressed with dinner jackets over the silk print shirts and faded jeans.

Penny was off to the side and dressed in a tight grey trousers with a black silk button top and matching heels. The raven-black hair was hanging like fine draperies. With the thick blocked fringe, she looked like an Egyptian priestess.

He mingled his was into the dining room, hellowing and nodding as he went. His new friend, Jimbo was hanging along Penny's left and giving him a hard glare. Harley had his back turned, sampling the wine from the way it looked.

Penny finally took notice and motioned to him with a smile.

"Harry," she said. "Good to see you – you have any trouble?"

"No, not at all," he said and gave Jimbo a curt smile

"Well that's good," she said. "I hope you don't mind the arranged seating."

Harry shook his head and looked around to see name tags at each table setting.

"That way you'll get to meet the rest of the band," she said.

"That's fine."

She leaned in as if to divulge a secret. "We'll be going out later so don't eat too much," she smiled coyly and turned away.

Part of their agreement before he took the job, was that Penny didn't slip off without first giving him the heads-up. He browsed around the tables until 'Harry Potter' showed up between 'Mary Ann Russel' and 'Alan Wilson'.

Mary Ann smiled warmly as he redundantly introduced himself. She immediately began to explain her job with the band. The 'Bells of Elysium' was a symphonic metal band and carried a small orchestral accompaniment. Mary Ann explained she was a backup vocalist and chatted unabashedly until the orders were taken. Being a vegetarian, she persuaded the waiter to serve her Crepe Suzette, which had not originally been offered on the evening menu. Harry ordered the cote de boeuf but wasn't feeling it and worried a little about Penny's warning. Alan finally drifted to the table with a wine glass in each hand. He muttered his order and remained monosylablic throughout the meal.

"So Potter, what exactly is it you do?" he finally blurted out.

"I'm a security consultant," Harry replied, remembering Penny's inventiveness.

"Well, what's that," Alan asked, indelicately.

Harry quickly realized that sometimes the simpliest questions are the most difficult.

Before the meal was over Penny stood up and put spoon to crystal. Except for a few, who had perhaps indulged in too much wine, she had gathered everyone's attention.

"Just a quick announcement – I promise I won't hold you," she said. "As most of you know, we'll be performing tomorrow night at the Paradiso. We'll begin setting up around four and beginning early, so everyone try and show up on time. This is our first show in Amsterdam, so let's everyone take it easy tonight and we'll have a great show tomorrow," she concluded to a small round of applause.

A few immediately began to leave and Penny interrupted once more.

"Oh, Harry," she said, craning to see over the crowd. "See me after the meal – we've got a little security issue," she said and smiled.

What the hell was that all about, he wondered. Jimbo was the first thing that came to his mind. The côte de boeuf was delicious but a little rare. He finished his drink and said goodnight to Mary Ann. Alan never looked up to notice him leaving. There was a empty chair now at Penny's table. Jimbo and Harley were at the next table but not paying any attention to Harry.

"So what's the problem?" he asked and plopped down in the chair.

"We have a little security issue. We'll be going out for drinks later and I need you along," she said and grinned.

"I thought you were asking everyone to turn in early?"

"Yeah, I always do, but we're going out anyway, if you want to go?"

"Sure," he said and rose to leave. "I'll wait out front by the car."

After a short walk back to the garden tables he took a quick look around and everything appeared normal. It was all quiet, inconspicious, and best of all, no hooded wizards. Walking lesuirely and taking complete notice of averyone he met, he pushed through the lobby and out to the front of the hotel. The doorman was helping a young couple with luggage.

"Can I help you sir?" he asked Harry.

"I'm waiting for Miss Penthane's car. Do you know it?" Harry asked.

He eyed Harry cautiously. "I believe it's the silver Mercedes – just there," he said pointing down the way.

"Thanks," Harry said and nodded politely.

After five minutes or so, a sleek black figure pushed through the relvolving door. Behind Penny, Ace and Harley wiggled out a few seconds later. They spotted Harry and began toward the car.

"You're going to love it Harry," she said.

"You look a little uptight old man," Ace quipped, eyeing Harry amusingly.

Harley, Penny, and Ace piled in the back seat of the Mercedes while Harry played navigator for the driver.

"Alright," Harry said. "So where are we going?"

"To a 'Brown House' Harry – it's where they serve gin. They have a different gin over here. It's really good," she explained.

"It'll take a bit of the edge off Harry – you should give it a try," Ace interjected.

The street lights were zipping by as they crossed the interior canals of the city. The roads that led away from the city fanned out like the spokes of a wheel. They finally made a left turn and stopped at a building that looked older than Dumbledore. They piled out of the car and Harry took a quick look around while Penny and Ace made their way to the door. Harley entered next as Harry pulled up the rear.

Everything inside the cafe was aged, warm, and wooden. A long history of good times had indelibly left its mark everywhere with scuffs, scrapes, and dents. The old building smelled of tocacco smoke mixed with the redolence of sawdust on the floors. Around the walls a bar ran the full length and a few customers were bending over their drinks in a curious fashion.

"It's slurping Harry – it's the way they drink gin here," Penny said with a grin.

"Slurping – really?"

"Yeah, they make a gin here called 'genever', it's different – believe me," Ace added.

A barman sped by, but Penny had no trouble gathering his attention. The barman hit the brakes hard and flashed Penny a helpful smile.

"We'd like a round of gin here," she asked pleasantly.

"Certainly, do you have something in mind? An Oude, Jonge, or Corenwyn?" he asked with a shrug.

Penny, with a baffled look, turned to Ace for help.

"A Jonge should do, but if you have anything special..." Ace said with plenty of arm motions.

"I think I do," the barman said with a polite smile and dissapeared.

The cafe was neither crowded or loud but there was a noticiable level of din in the undampened wooden hall. By this time many patrons had noticed Penny and some were staring.

The barman returned with four small tulip shaped glasses and a bottle. He spaced them evenly on the wooden bar and began pouring each glass carefully to the rim.

"This is a Jonge we just got in – very nice. I hope you'll like it," he said.

"I'm _suuurrre_ we will," Penny said, holding her hair back and bending over the glass. As she bent over Harry caught a glimpse of breasts cased in black lace before the scene quickly vanished.

Not being the bashful type, Ace quickly followed to gulp the top off his drink.

"Whoa... now that's different," Penny said and brushed a drop of gin off her lower lip with a finger.

"Yeah, that's a damn good Jonge," Ace said, coming up for air.

Harry and Harley stood there as pair of inactive spectators. Harley was eyeing a hot blonde in the corner and barely noticed his drink.

"Come on you two – don't be shy," Penny ordered.

Harry nodded and stepped up to the bar. Very carefully he bent over and sipped the top layer of gin. Harley, not being one to remove his eyes from the room, moistened his finger in the glass and licked it.

Ace began to horse laugh Harley. "Man, you're killing me."

Harley returned Ace an indifferent glare and remained quiet and aloof. Harry, now able to lift his glass, panned around the room cooly while sipping his gin.

"Not bad – kind of earthy. Nothing like London dry, is it?" he remarked casually.

"Nope, not at all," replied Ace.

Penny and Ace emptied their glass and both nodded approval. They began a chatty converasation about the band and their plans for the morrow. Ace was bit of a comedian. He was the only one Harry had seen that could make Penny smile with twinkling eyes. Ace had been with Penny in the corner of the terrace when Harry arrived at the get-together. He wondered what their connection was, if any. Ace did seem a bit more professional than the others. That was probably it, he thought.

"Feel like a head butt?" Ace inquired.

"What the hell's that?" asked Penny.

"A beer chaser, of course," quipped Ace.

She looked amused but then looked at Harry and Harley.

"You guys better abstain from this one," she said and pointed a finger. "Hell, somebody needs to stay sober."

"Let's get it to go," Ace added.

Penny and Ace order two bottles of beers and left the glasses on the bar. They all thanked the barman then made their way to the Mercedes. In the back, Penny and Ace were still gabbing about band numbers and feeling no pain. Harry noticed the city lights, which were so clear at going out, were now leaving a little phosphorescent trail behind them. Maybe the gin was little stronger than he thought.

"Oops – I'm dying to pee," Penny confessed as she and Ace laughed uncontrollably.

Back at the hotel, Harry was out of the car first. He stood by the side and watched Penny kick a long leg out of the car door to plant it firmly on the ground. He tried not to think about that and think about the job at hand, instead. He realized he was losing that fight.

Still cackling and laughing Ace followed Penny into the lift and Harley joined them reluctantly. Harry waved and continued on toward the lobby.

"See you tomorrow Harry," she blurted, before the doors slammed shut.

Thinking a little fresh air before he turned in would help; he made his way back to the garden cafe. He grabbed a table and ordered bottled water. The fresh green smell of things growing was a welcome relief from the smokey brown house. From out of the shadows a bulky figure sauntered his way. It was his old friend Jimbo.

"Have a good night out Potter?" he asked, mockingly.

Harry nodded but didn't respond. As Jimbo passed his chair on his way to the foyer, an arm came out and pushed hard on Harry's shoulder. From the almost reclining position in which Harry was seated, the front legs of the chair lifted and Harry could feel himself going back. Teetering for only a moment, he could feel the chair going over.

:

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading and remember to review.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** A few new changes/additions to the end of the chapter. (9/9/13)

Grats for the new faves and follows.

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta**

**Chapter 7.**

Harry could feel his face flushing hot and his blood coursing. The fingers of the left hand began to tingle and he wanted to pull the black wand but the chair continued it's fall backwards. After a moment that seemed much longer, he felt his right shoulder come to rest on an ornamental tree behind his table to break the fall. Suspended in a reclined position, he spun a right leg over the left and rolled out of the chair and onto his feet. Standing a few feet from Jimbo, he was looking the big man in the eye and waiting for any reaction. Harry stood ready and tense. If Jimbo moved an inch toward him he'd only have to flinch to put him on his arse.

"If you're looking for trouble you're going to get it," Harry spat out the threat.

"Oh chill out Potter," Jimbo said with a grin. "You're such a lightweight – didn't think you'd go over."

"You're a liar. And I'll settle this up with you when this job is done," said Harry.

"Well settle up now you little git," he said, getting all puffy. "If you think you're man enough – settle up now!"

"I'm here for a job," Harry said. "I don't know what you're here for and I'll deal with you when I damn well feel like it."

Jimbo would never stop until he provoked an incident. Harry knew that, but this was neither the time nor the place. He was in the country covertly and the Netherlands Institution of Magic knew nothing of his presence. It would be best to not draw attention to himself if he didn't want to get evicted. He could see Kingsley's reaction now. _So Harry you were kicked of the Netherlands for tussling with a Muggle?_

"Anytime Potter. I'll be right here," Jimbo said and continued into the hotel and disappeared.

A few of the guests had taken notice of their dispute. Thinking it best to leave, Harry took the bottled water and took a walk around the hotel before turning in.

‡‡‡‡‡

Dragging out of the shower, Harry noticed a small envelope resting on the carpet that had been slid under the door. He tied the belt on his terrycloth robe and toweled the water from his hair. Grabbing the unsealed note, he reached for his glasses to make out the fine print.

Good morning to the band and crew:

Just a reminder – we'll do a sound check at 5:00 o'clock

at the Paradiso. The coach from the hotel will leave

around 4:30. Be prepared to arrange your own

transportation if you don't use the coach.

For any early birds the hotel will serve breakfast until

9:00. You're on your own for lunch so feel free to check

out the surrounding area. If you arrive at the venue early,

there's a Hard Rock Cafe just a few steps away from the

Paradiso.

Penny

The note had been copied from the hotel office copier and written as a general reminder for everyone. Slipped inside the envelope was a personal note from Penny.

Harry,

Several of us will probably go out for lunch.

Just reminding you of my plans and to let

you know you're welcome.

Thanks,

Penny

The Winter Garden was a huge skylit dining area just off the Reflet in the hotel foyer. Palm trees were everywhere and flowers were brought in to give the place a genuine garden feel. There were a few sleepy eyed stragglers still being seated for breakfast. He could see Mary Ann headed toward buffet queue and he tucked in, neatly behind her.

"Harry – alright?"

"Alright, and you?"

"I think so. Not quite sure yet – you know?" she said and laughed.

"I know the feeling," he said.

They quickly moved through the queue. Not feeling up to a full breakfast, he waved off the ham and rashers. A tall server in a white uniform was dishing out scrambled eggs with a pair of spoon-like tongs. Meticulously, he fished out the eggs with the delicate precision of a brain surgeon. Harry took a small portion of the eggs with toast and returned to the table where he ordered black coffee.

Mary Ann took a seat next to him with a bowl of cereal and a heaping plate of fruit.

"Don't know if I'll be having lunch," she said sheepishly.

"Well it seems a bit decadent – all this time off with nothing to do but plan the next meal," he said with a grin.

"I suppose," she said. "But we'll earn it tonight." Mary Ann's curly hair was particularly lively this morning.

"I'm sure you're right. How long have you been with the band," he asked.

"A little over six months with 'Elysium' and a little over two years with other bands," she said between bites of cereal.

"So how would you rate this band – good?" he asked as casually as possible.

"Yeah sure – is this an interview?" she asked.

"No, not really. Does it seem like one?"

"I don't know. I remember you telling Alan you were security or something," she said and laid down the spoon.

Harry took a few moments to blow the steam off his coffee. "Yes."

"What kind of security. I mean, you don't look the type if you don't mind me saying."

"A rather unusual kind of security," he said and took a sip of the coffee.

"Do we have an unusual security problem?" she asked, while moving an orange section on her plate in tiny circles.

"You tell me. What do you think?" he asked with a smile.

Mary Ann laughed. "What bands aren't a little unusual – and this seems like an interview," she said.

"Have it your way then," Harry said and smiled. "But if you do see something out of the ordinary – let me know. Will you?"

Mary Ann returned him a curious look and then chuckled.

"Define unordinary," she said playfully and finally stabbed the orange section with her fork and plopped it into her mouth.

"I'll work on a definition. Are you waiting for the coach?"

"I thought so. What about you?" she said.

"I don't know. I had an invitation to join Penny for lunch – but I'd like to see a bit of the city," he said and watched her for any reaction.

"There's a lot of variety in the city. Anything in particular you're looking for," she asked and curled the corner of her mouth into a wry grin.

He smiled at her question. "No, no – nothing like that."

"Well, for first time visitors I recommend the sightseeing boats - they give canal tours of the city," she said and plopped a strawberry into her mouth.

"Yeah, that should be nice. It sounds like you've been here before?" he asked.

"Once, a couple of years ago."

"The boat tours – are they all the same?"

"No, not really," she replied.

"Well, since you seem to know your way around – would you care to go along?" He couldn't think of a smooth way to ask, so he used the direct method with a smile.

Mary Ann looked at her watch and rolled her shoulders into a shrug.

"Yeah, I suppose I could. We'll be back for the coach – right?"

"Don't see why not," he said and threw his serviette on the table.

‡‡‡‡‡

Penny paused for only a moment to give him one of those _where have you been_ looks and continued on with business. Even in her warmup outfit she was stunning. The backup singers were just getting started so Mary Ann hadn't been missed. He nodded hello and went outside to size up the Paradiso.

The stately old brick building stood out as strongly as Gryffindor tower. It was hard to believe this music venue had once been a church. It had been built with stained glass windows and all the accoutrements of a place of worship. Harry walked around the perimeter and immediately liked what he saw. Along one wall was a oversized car park for the coaches and equipment lorries. A narrow alley ran down the wall opposite the car park, and the back of the building was up next to a canal. The only security issue he could find was a restaurant and bar just next door and across the narrow alley.

Inside, big time band sounds were tuning up. A few early guests were showing up on the street and some were coming up through the side door to wait in the small foyer. Satisfied the perimeter of the venue was reasonably secure, Harry entered the building along with a few of the guests. A balcony ran around the interior wall to give a birds eye view of the floor and stage.

The stage was safely higher than most. Harley was seated to the right and his new friend Jimbo was standing, menacingly on the left. The bouncers seemed friendly enough and none resembled the sumo wrestler type he had the run-in with at the Scala. After a lull in the action of several minutes, Penny came running onstage in a tight shiny black costume. She quickly announced herself as Electra Penthane and the Bells of Elysium. In a few moments it took the crowd applause to subside, the show was on.

The band began with an older number that was quite popular and gave them a chance to get in the groove. They proceeded though two more numbers before they really coordinated as a group. Generally referred to as symphonic metal, there a dark side to their music that played well with the stained glass windows, that were backlit with artificial lighting.

Like London, the Netherlands were also under the unusually warm weather conditions. After an hour, the band took a well-deserved break and Penny headed toward the makeshift dressing room. The slick plastic looking costume was glued to her skin with sweat. Harry planned to watch the hall leading to the dressing room when Penny motioned with a finger for him to follow her.

When he stuck his head in her dressing room, she was already barefooted and pulling down a narrow black zip fastener on the side of her rubbery body suit. Before he could say, "What's up," she was half-way out of the slick black suit.

"Harry I think I saw him – in the audience – by the side entrance," she said, completely out of the suit and down to a black lace bra and jet black pants.

Harry pulled his jaw up off the floor and tried to assimilate a response.

"You, you saw him. Are you sure?" he said, trying his best to play it cool.

She turned her back to him and popped off the black bra and tossed it on the makeup table. Timidity was certainly not one of her problems. The sides of her breasts extended beyond the ribcage as she reached for a white terrycloth towel on a hook nearby. She began to towel herself dry as if no one else was in the room.

"I'm pretty sure Harry. And I was hoping you did," she said. With her back still to him, she stripped off the black lace pants and threw the them on the table along with the bra. Securing the towel snugly around her waist like a skirt, she turned to face him with a smile. "Damn it's hot out there," she added and reached for a another towel.

"Sorry, I didn't see him. The light is not so good," he said and shook his head. "I'll stand by the side entrance for the rest of the evening.

She inhaled deeply and Harry could see she was scared. "Yeah... he walked under a spotlight – for a just a moment."

"Look Penny... don't worry," he said, resolutely.

Penny nodded little nods, quick and sharp, and then reached for an item of clothing. She could see him gawping and suddenly, as if swept by a wave of realization, she held the towel in front of her chest.

"Sorry Harry," she said and chuckled. "Modesty is one of the first things you lose in this business. When I worked with the Weird Sisters I changed backstage."

"That sounds indelicate. You must have hated it."

"Like I said – you get over it – and it kept the guys entertained."

"Well, all the same – I think I'll wait outside," he said with a grin and ducked out the door and into the hall. A few minutes later she came back out in a white costume, still skin tight, with a reflective sheen to it.

"That looks good," Harry said as a litmus test to gauge her nervousness. She smiled but failed to respond.

Penny took the stage once again and the transformation to Electra was taking place. Immediately the nervousness vanished as she transmuted back into the rock star. Harry moved to a position left of the stage but not as far away as he had previously suggested. The lights flickered, went out, then Penny was illuminated with a giant flood.

Making love to the wireless mic, the girl moved like she was put together with ball bearings. The crowd was shaking the floor on their first return number while the lights, in a multitude of colors, prowled the crowd like a predator in darting passes.

Most of the lights were aimed randomly, but after a while, Harry noticed an unusual pattern where a long ray of yellow light originating from a spot behind the stage would, every so often, beam out across Penny's shoulder to a place on the rear balcony. He looked at the light and began to time the pattern and then realized the danger.

With the sudden insight into the danger he felt his skin begin to crawl. He turned to look at the area on the balcony where the spotlight targeted every thirty five seconds or so. Moving into position under the occasional spot was a hooded figure. If the wizard timed a curse down the yellow beam of light, then no more than a handful of guests would notice. Some might even think it was part of the show.

Quickly, he was running through the crowd and toward the nearest stairway to the balcony. Jumping quickly up the steps, he focused intently on the last place the hooded figure was standing.

"Damnit..." someone yelled as he knocked a drink out of their hand.

"Sorry," he said without looking. He wedged through the balcony crowd, drawing more curses and hard looks. His thirty five seconds were almost up. When he neared the corner the wizard was so absorbed in watching the stage he hardly noticed Harry until they were face to face.

Under the hood, eyes as big as saucers stared until that moment of recognition occurred when each man clearly understood the other to be a wizard. For a split second, that seemed like minutes, they studied each other for any reaction. Very quickly, before his enemy could react, Harry snapped out the black wand. He wouldn't use it front of the guests if there was any way to avoid it, but he had to do something quickly. He couldn't give the wizard time to focus and disapparate. Without trying the aforementioned, the wizard turned to run and Harry gave pursuit.

In the far corner of the balcony, a small stairwell ran up the roof. Some of the guests began to clear out of the path of both men. Hanging onto a door-frame as he ran, the hooded wizard catapulted himself around the corner and into the stairwell. The front of the Paradiso had another level that was a shallow decorative facade that went up one more series of steps to an old tower section. Harry could see the wizard making his way to the tower as fast as he could run. Safely away from any guests, Harry fired a stunning curse through the stairwell and toward the running wizard. Missing the wizard to explode against the wall, the curse lit the dark stairway like a flash bulb.

Creaky hinges squealed as the hooded wizard pulled open a door that led to the roof of the building. With his thighs screaming in protest, Harry made it to the top of the stairs and paused by the open door. He knew the wizard would fire a curse as soon as he stepped through the door.

"Protego!", he conjured the spell as a precaution and stepped through the door to the slate roof beyond. The wizard immediately fired a curse that he partially blocked as he stepped aside to fire a counter-curse from the holly wand. The curse just missed the wizard that was running through the cool night air and along the eve of the roof. The dark figure quickly turned toward the side of the roof, nearest the narrow alley on the right.

The distance between the Paradiso and the building on the other side of the alley was about fifteen feet. Too far to jump without magic, but that was exactly where the cloaked wizard was headed. Harry cursed the leather soled shoes that were slipping on the slick roof tiles. The dark figure ran all the way up to the edge, bent into a squat, and extended his legs to leap. He easily cleared alley to land with a soft thump on the roof of the adjoining building.

Slipping and sliding down the tiles Harry was intent on trying the same trick. He kept one eye on the wizard and one eye on the edge of the roof. Running and sliding down the roof to the same spot the wizard jumped from, he secured the wands in the jacket pockets and tried to prepare his mind for the jump.

"Damn-it..." he softly cursed as his right foot nearly slipped off the edge before he could plant his feet. With what little energy he had left in his legs and a hard flinch of magic, he jumped. He wasn't sure if he would make it the alley and wondered how the 'arresto momentun' would work if he went sliding down the face of the opposite building.

In near darkness and much to his relief, he could see the edge of the roof of the building rising under the bottoms of his feet.

"Arresto Momemtum."

Landing on the roof with a soft thud, he immediately reached for a wand, but the wizard had already fired a curse. With no time to parry the curse he dove, face first, flat on to the rooftop. He stayed there with his chin on the roof and looking for the wizard to fire another curse. He could see nothing but heard the wizard's footsteps racing away. The wizard disappeared over the eve of the rounded rooftop.

Jumping to his feet, Harry had both wands in hand and was running toward the eve. The city skyline was barely visible over the top and he dove for the eve to use it as a rampart. He could see the dark hooded figure jump over the edge, followed by a crashing sound and women's screams.

Reluctantly, Harry followed the wizard over the side. With another 'Arresto Momentum', he landed in a previously broken mess of tables and ruined dinner. With customers mouths still agape, he struggled to his feet and looked around the courtyard for any sign of the wizard.

Another scream followed by the crashing sound of broken glassware came from somewhere inside a nearby restaurant. It appeared to be inside the the Hard Rock Cafe. Running toward the entrance, he quickly came upon the startled Maitre' D. Speechlessly, with one hand to her mouth, she pointed with the other hand to stairs leading to a lower level. Harry nodded his thanks and continued without missing a beat.

Following a trail of broken glassware to another overturned table, there was an angry male patron protesting his ruined meal with a clinched fist. The trail of mayhem continued down the steps to an outdoor dining area, which was just a few paces wide and overlooking the canal. Stopping to look left and then right, there was no sign of the man he was after. He just happened to look left again and noticed a women rising to wipe a spilled drink from her lap. Doing his best to avoid the poor woman any more pain, he carefully ran past her to the trail around the side of the building.

Racing around the building, Harry could see the wizard take a bridged street over the canal and disappear into a neighborhood on the side of the avenue opposite the Paradiso. Running and trying to listen between his own clomping feet, he could hear footsteps down a narrow dimly lit street. It was the perfect place for a wizard to make good his escape. His street shoes were making tons of noise on the cobblestone so he paused to listen again. Much softer footsteps could be heard fifty or sixty paces down the narrow street. He picked up the pace, silently cursing the street shoes. Frustrated with the dim light, he fired a curse at the darkness and down the narrow alley. Luckily, it illuminated the wizard and hit a small building just beyond.

Immediately, he fired another curse with the other wand. The wizard barely slowed as he parried the curse with his arm behind him. Relentlessly, Harry kept firing curses, each one now getting a little closer as the wizard had to twist backwards to block them. The wizard was losing a half a step each time he turned to block a curse and was losing much of the distance he had put between them.

Chipping away, Harry fired a more accurate string of curses that forced the wizard to finally turn around and stop.

"Protego," conjured the wizard and Harry could see a dome of energy erupt to block his curse.

"Stupify!" Harry yelled and a huge curse went tearing for the pinned Wizard. Again, the hooded figure was unable to run as he blocked the spell and tried to fire a counter curse.

"Expelliarmus," Harry shouted and the wizard did his best to block and get off another counter. The wizard was no slouch with his wandwork. Harry was advancing and making up the valuable distance the wizard had put between them.

Curse, parry, and counter-curse. Curse, parry, and counter-curse. Curse, curse, and the wizard was hit. Knocked off his feet and spun like a top from the spell, he was lying flat on his face in the cobblestone street.

With wands extended, Harry carefully approached the cloaked wizard. He lay there motionless and appeared to be unconscious.

Just a few steps from the wizard, the figure suddenly came to life. He rolled over, and fired one last curse as Harry drew near. Harry barely had the time to block the attack. In a blink of an eye the nimble wizard was on his feet again and turned to run.

"Stupify!" Harry spat out the curse angrily and the wizard went down again, rolling end over end.

"Incarcerous," Harry cursed and the vines of the spell wrapped the wizard tightly.

Harry flicked a spare wand in the air. "Lumos."

The wizard was out cold this time and wrapped tightly by the vines of the Incarcerous curse. The hood had come off his head and the man was not wearing a beard as Harry remembered. The hands were also much smaller on this man than the wizard he remembered from the Leaky Cauldron. He would need to wake him up before someone drifted onto the scene.

"Aguamenti," he conjured, and a healthy stream of water shot out of his wand to hit the wizard in the face. His face contorted and he began to struggle against the vines of the Incarcerous curse. Awake now, and aware of his predicament, the wizard lay still and said nothing.

"Who are you? - and what were you doing at the Paradiso?" demanded Harry.

The wizard lay there, silent as a stone.

"I'll ask you one more time. Who are you?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Harry Potter. Now who are you and what were you doing at the Paradiso?"

"Watching the show – of course."

"CRUCIO." And a bright jet engulfed the wizard. Squirming and writhing in pain the wizard groaned and shook. Harry held the curse for several seconds before waving it off.

The wizard had partially shaken off part of the cloak. He was wearing regular trousers and a pair of black trainers.

"With that outfit – I don't think so. Now are you ready to tell me who you are or do you want some more?"

"I'm part of an Order," he said and then clammed up.

"An Order? What kind of order goes around stalking women?"

"We stalk no one," he spat out the reply.

"Well then answer my questions who – are you?"

"Go to hell!"

"CRUCIO," Harry conjured the curse angrily and again the wizard shook with pain until his teeth clattered. When the wave of torture subsided Harry resumed the questioning.

"Were you in London? Did you fight two Aurors in London?" Harry demanded.

"No, never," he managed at length.

"Then why are you following this woman?"

"It's Lasaurus you seek. But he did not know they were Aurors."

"And who is Lasaurus?"

"You'll find him soon enough.. You won't be so lucky with him," the wizard said with foul contempt.

"Then where is this Lasaurus and why is he stalking this woman."

"I don't know," said the wizard and Harry raised the wand again. "Wait," the wizard interrupted. "This friend of yours, Penthane – she has stolen from Lasaurus – from the Order."

"Stolen – stolen what? What's this all about?"

"I can say no more."

Harry shook his head with frustration and raised his wand to curse the wizard again.

"Well, we'll see about that," said Harry angrily.

While shaking and rolling under the effects of the torture curse, the wizard had managed to wiggle a hand free from the vines of the Incarcerous spell. In the excitement of the chase and overly confident in the wrapping vines, Harry had failed to disarm his opponent. It was only too late when he saw the wizard wriggle the tip of his wand under his own chin.

"NO!" Harry shouted and raised a wand to stun the wizard.

There was a faraway look in his eyes when the wizard muttered his last curse. The wand tip exploded in green light to completely envelope the wizard's head. In the time it took the spell to dissipate, the wizard was dead.

Harry stood there, for a long moment, stunned and wondering what the hell to do next. He had a dead wizard at his feet and he was in the Netherlands covertly. He'd have to get a message Patronus to Kingsley and there would be one more person to add to this investigation: Penny.

_An Order_, the wizard said. Could there be more hooded wizards running around? There was a nagging thought, that the whole thing might have been a diversion. Straddling the dead wizard, he quickly pried the wand away from cold fingers and relinquished the Incarcerous curse. He tore open the robe and searched the body for any identification but found none. Leaving the wizard in the street, he raced back through the cool evening air to the Paradiso.

:

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Thanks for reading and remember to review.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Thanks for the new favs and follows. Any comments would be greatly appreciated.

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**Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta**

**Chapter 8.**

Avoiding the Hard Rock and the rooftops, Harry quickly retraced his steps back to the Paradiso. Trotting up the street, he could feel his heart in his throat. There was this overriding fear he'd been duped with a decoy until he heard the bombastic pounding of Elysium's drummer, Ace Varney, long before he got to the building.

Racing in through the side entrance and through the small foyer, he strained to get a glimpse of the stage. His anxieties ratcheted up a notch when he realized this was the instrumental break and Penny was nowhere in sight. Plowing through the crowd, he made his way to the hall leading to Penny's dressing room. Standing outside the door, with the satisfied look of a Cheshire cat, was his friend Jimbo.

"Is Penny alright?" he asked the big bodyguard.

"Yeah sure – she's just changing. And she don't need your help," he said with a laugh.

"Sure," Harry replied and wondered how long he could restrain himself with this arsehole.

"So... beat it then," Jimbo ordered.

Harry froze in his tracks.

"You remember our little deal don't you?"

"Yeah, now get on out."

"Before we leave Amsterdam. I'll settle up with you," Harry said and turned to leave.

"Are you threatening..." Jimbo said and cut it short when Penny's door swung open.

"Who's threatening who?" Penny asked innocently and walked on, ignoring the two.

Harry was still angry but tried to find solace in the discovery his pretty client was unharmed. Jimbo glared back with a hard smirk. Penny had changed again into a silvery costume that was just as tight as the first one.

Penny took the stage for the last phase of the evening and Harry resumed his position atop the balcony and at the end of the long yellow spotlight. Now that he knew she was okay he began to grow angry over the whole mess. There was another dead wizard and he'd bet a weeks pay there was certainly more to this story than Penny had told him. If she didn't offer up a better explanation, he'd call it even and head back to London.

The rest of the evening went by so smooth it was boring. Harry stayed on the balcony until the show was just a few minutes from closing. He got down in time to see Penny to her dressing room and then did a short inspection around the perimeter of the building. As he waited in the car park, Penny came out followed by Harley and Jimbo. Penny got in the backseat between the two bodyguards while Harry watched them drive off. He had a place in mind back at the hotel where he could safely apparate into. Waving goodbye to the coach, he lingered in the car park for a few minutes.

With the noises and din of the evening gone, the street took on a calm and peaceful look. The air was cool and fragrant with a blend of green growing things and the sweet smell of the canal. For a moment, memories took him back to the Burrow and at the outdoor table behind the Weasley's house.

‡‡‡‡‡

Harry knocked on Penny's door but no one answered. He rang the doorbell and knocked again. Shuffling feet were slowly making their way toward the door. The latch unlocked and Harley opened the door with a blank expression. He looked like he needed coffee really bad, but it was ten thirty in the morning.

"Oh Potter," he said, looking back through dreary eyes. "What's up?"

"I need to see Penny," Harry said firmly. "Is she up?"

Harley looked puzzled, like he had been asked a tough question in quantum physics.

"I don't know Potter. I think she's still asleep," He said with a shrug.

Harry paused a moment to consider the time. "What time does she normally get up after a concert?"

Harley reflected again and looked at his watch.

"Bout now, I suppose," he finally managed.

"Well good, then I'll wait," Harry said with a curt nod and pushed his way around Harley.

Once inside the smell of coffee was wafting toward his nose.

"So, you do have coffee?" Harry asked.

"Huh, oh yeah over there," Harley said and pointed to the oversized breakfast nook.

As Harry entered the room he saw the door to Harley and and Jimbo's adjoining suite was cracked open. He dug around in the cupboard and found a clean coffee cup. He poured a cup of straight black coffee and turned toward Harley, who was sitting on the couch with his head leaned back, looking at the ceiling.

He wondered how much of the story he should tell her. She might not be too keen on his use of the Cruciatus curse. Aurors had long used the 'unforgivable' curses in the line of duty, but many in the wizarding world were still offended by their use under any conditions. It was regrettable the wizard had chose to end his life the way he did, and Harry felt bad about having to use the Cruciatus curse to get information, but there was a job to do. If the incident had happened in the U.K. a review board might have been called in to evaluate his actions. But under the present situation, with one Auror dead and another severely injured, he didn't expect many questions. A few years ago he couldn't have felt the way he did now. He'd been in a war and didn't really understand until the war was over. He had opted to erase Dolohov's memory when Ron was tempted to kill him. He'd also allowed Bellatrix Lestrange to live that night at Malfoy manor. She went on to kill Dobby and Tonks before Molly Weasley ended her terrible existence. Dolohov went on to kill Remus and now poor Teddy Lupin had to grow up parent-less, just as he had done. What he could not have known until he joined the Auror service was that the war still going on. Going on every day. He glanced at his watch and decided he'd waited long enough, and now it was time for serious questions and answers.

"Well, do you want to get her up or should I?" Harry asked.

Harley never answered but pointed to the corner door to Penny's bedroom. Harry nodded and stepped toward the door. He rapped it gently three times without an answer.

"Penny," he called out. With still no answer he gently turned the latch and entered the room. The room had that smell like someone had slept in it all night. Raven colored hair was tossed about the pillow.

"Penny," he called, a little louder then the first.

"Huh?" she answered in a muffled voice, without moving.

"Hey, it's me, Harry. We need to talk," he said and the raven haired head turned to face him. With barely any light in the room, he went to the windows and opened the blinds.

"Oh God..." she said and pulled the covers over her head.

"Wake up Penny – we need to talk," he said and made his way back to the door to leave.

"Please – let me shower first," she said and pulled herself up to her feet and reached for a dressing gown on bedside table. Naked and with her back to him, she pulled on the gown and headed for the shower. He marveled for only a moment at the rear view of her firm physique.

"I'll be outside," he said and left the room.

Harley was still leaning back on the couch and staring at the ceiling like it was the Sistine Chapel. Harry finished off the pot of coffee and started another.

"You carry a gun Potter?" Harley finally managed to say. Amused by the question and thinking Jimbo put him up to asking, Harry dug for an answer.

"No – something better," he said. "You need some more coffee?"

"Na, I'm good," he said and closed his eyes.

The pot was almost full of coffee and the peculator was sputtering it's last breaths of hot water when Penny opened her door and entered the room. Her black hair was rolled up and clipped in a knot and her lower body musculature was arrogantly straining the taunt fabric of the jeans. Her old crumpled Tee shirt looked comfy, partially tucked into the waistband of the snug jeans.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Almost eleven," Harry replied. "You're ready for coffee?"

"Sure. And thanks – I needed to get up anyway."

Harry nodded and found another mug sized cup for Penny. She looked at him quizzically as he filled her cup from the fresh pot.

"So what's this you needed to talk about?" she asked.

Harry didn't answer but pointed to Harley who was still leaning back on the couch.

"Harley, give us a minute – will you?" she asked and Harley struggled to his feet, shrugged and left the room. Harry took his cup and found a seat at the breakfast nook table. Penny, pattering over with bare feet, pulled up the opposite chair She gave him one of those _well now are you going to tell me_ looks and then blew the steam off the top of the coffee mug.

"I ran into a cloaked wizard in the Paradiso last night," he said and took a sip of coffee.

"Well, I told you I saw him. What happened?" she said, rather nonchalantly.

"He's dead," Harry said as flatly as the breakfast table.

Her expression sagged immediately. She stared back like a poker player and he had no clue as to what card she might play next.

"Did you... kill him?" she asked as if the question caused her real pain.

"No, " he answered. "I had him trapped with an Incarcerous curse when he pulled an arm loose, and he... well, he killed himself to avoid more questions."

"It wasn't the wizard you saw in London?" she asked with an even more worried look.

"No – not the same," he said, and Penny sighed and stared into the coffee. He took out the wizard's wand from his pocket and placed it on the table with a hard click.

She looked at the evidence, sitting very still, for a long moment of silence. She still had not touched the coffee.

"He said he was part of an Order. And he mentioned another wizard called Lasaurus," he said and Penny sat there, unmoving.

"I see," she said.

"Well I don't," he replied and gave her a firm look. "And I think there's more to your story."

Her head shot up and the light reentered her eyes. "More to the story?" she asked, shaking her head.

"Yes, I do. And if you can't help me out here. Well... I think I'll be off for London."

Penny shook her head and stretched her arms out wide. "Harry look at me." The wrinkles in the Tee shirt smoothed out as she began to stretch. "Look at me, and tell me what do you see?"

Harry pondered the question. "A Muggle rock star."

"Exactly – a Muggle rock star. And what would a Muggle rock star have in common with guys dressed in antique cloaks and claiming to be an Order?"

"I don't know," he said. "You tell me."

"Look Harry, the magical part of my life is almost entirely behind me now. I don't even carry a wand. And you know that's true don't you," she said and curled the corner of her mouth into a wry grin.

"Yeah, but I still don't know what to make of this," he said at length.

"Harry... neither do I. The world is full of weirdos. Look, I'm sure I've done something to offend these guys, but I'll be damned if I know what it is," she said and reached for the coffee.

Harry sat there, quiet and unmoving.

She sat the cup down before continuing. "And that's why I've asked for your help Harry. To help me figure this out," she repeated. "Not to kill a wizard – then call it even and leave."

"That's not what I was doing," he said firmly.

"No?"

"No!"

"Well then stay. This is a magical problem and I need your help to deal with it," she said and canted her head to look deeply eye to eye. She looked like a lost puppy on a rainy night.

"Will you stay?" she asked again.

Harry nodded and then stared into the blackness of his coffee cup.

"Thanks," she said and rose from the chair to lean over to kiss Harry on the forehead. "I got to go, and thanks for getting me up," she said with a smile and swished away to take a little bit of sunshine with her.

‡‡‡‡‡

For the next two nights Harry waited at the Paradiso for a wizard that never came. He had worried the 'Order' might send two since sending just one had failed. And he worried he might not be strong enough to hold off two, but they never came. He had the light technician fix the troubling spotlight and all had been very quiet except for one disagreement between two male patrons they led to fists and cuffs. Jimbo continued to give him hard looks and glares but nothing else was exchanged between the two.

He had met Mary Ann again for breakfast and she agreed to play the part of tour guide on the band's first day off. Penny was happy to hear of his plans, and assured him his services would not be needed as she planned to spend the whole day poolside. He and Mary Ann agreed to go into town and check out some of Amsterdam's more conservative attractions. She explained that most of the sightseeing spots listed in the regular tour guides were bogus. Today, they would check out a few museums, since Amsterdam had more museums per capita than any other major city in Europe. There was a convenient canal hopping tour that stopped at most of the major museums.

"Have you heard of the Maritime museum?" she asked.

"I have now."

"It's pretty cool if you're into sailing and old ships," she said and Harry didn't care one way or the other. He was glad to be away from his bodyguard duties, and canal hopping from one museum to the next was fine with him. There was a light breeze blowing Mary Ann's curly hair.

"That sounds fine," he said, watching her hair. Curly hair moved entirely different than straight or wavy hair, he postulated. The canal boat was making a slow one hundred and eighty degree turn to put itself in position to dock alongside the museum, which was entirely surrounded by water. As they queued up to get off the boat, Harry noticed about one in three were tinkering with a mobile phone or taking pictures. He had a mobile, but it was still in his baggage back at the hotel. For a security person, the phone's absence was a glaring detraction from his persona.

"Watch your step," warned a deckhand, assisting women and children from the boat. It was a calm day in general but a northern breeze was creating a little chop on the water this day and the boat rocked heavily against the dock. Dressing down, Harry wore a lightweight windcheater outfitted with the pockets he needed to carry both wands. With a cotton knit shirt, comfortable jeans, and a pair of Top-siders, he thought his appearance was as touristy as any Muggle.

The museum was housed in a centuries old building that once served as the Amsterdam Admiralty arsenal. The castle-like building encircled a huge courtyard that had been in modern times covered with a glass top. Anchored next to the museum and an eye-catching part of the museum tour was the 'Amsterdam', a three-masted sailing ship from the seventeenth century. The whole thing should be a pleasant diversion for an hour or so at least. The perfume Mary Ann was wearing would occasionally drift his way as a reminder that this was holiday and to treat it as such.

After an hour or so, the crowd had drifted through the old sailing ship and most of the museum. Harry felt he had earned a genuine appreciation for hundreds of years of Dutch maritime history when most of the crowd began to break for lunch. Grabbing a light sandwich, bottled water, and a bag of crisps, he followed Mary Ann to a nice little terrace that was part of the museum restaurant. The sun was up and the windcheater was getting a little warm.

"Are you hot in that," she asked.

"No, I'm okay," he said, trying to brush off the question.

"Well, if you need to take it off I have room in the bag," she said, pointing to a large macrame shoulder bag.

It was a simple but touching act of kindness. She had always been polite and friendly but never a nurturing comment until now.

"Well, thanks but that's okay," he said while noticing an unusual bug crawling up the side of the table.

Mary Ann nodded and studied his expression. With a satisfied smile she chuckled slightly.

Her question came out of nowhere. "Are you carrying a gun?" she asked and stretched open her bag of crisps.

Harry continued to study the bug who was testing the table surface with a long pair of feelers.

"Just rest assured you're safe," he said, now looking out over the water and twisting off the top of the bottled water.

She smiled and searched his face. "Oh, I see," she said, unwrapping the clingfilm off the sandwich.

Mary Ann was what Harry would refer to as 'cute'. She had curly hair that reminded him slightly of Hermione in her younger years before she took to magically straightening it to the pageboy she wore now. She was wearing a large pair of sunglasses, which appeared to be barely supported by a small pug nose. He guessed she was mostly an indoor type and wasn't particularly firm or muscular but neither did she appear overly soft or sagging. She was wearing mid length khaki shorts, a button cotton top with a light weight cardigan, now tied around her waist. A very proper and somewhat conservative outfit for anyone working in a rock band. But it looked good to Harry's eye and was smart for the changing weather conditions normally found in coastal conditions.

"Do I look too odd in a windcheater?" he asked playfully.

"No, not so much. Just thought you might be getting warm," she said and bit off the end of a crisp.

"So how does Amsterdam rate as a tour stop?" he asked.

"Better than most. It's kind of expensive though."

Harry nodded but didn't comment.

"So how long are you with the band – do you know?" she asked him with squinted eyes.

Harry shook his head. "Not really sure," he said and looked at the bug making for his sandwich.

"Through the summer?"

"Maybe," he said. He knew he'd probably told a lie but couldn't easily explain why he had no idea.

She smiled as if swept by a realization. "Is this your first time out of the U.K.?"

He laughed. "Does it show?"

"No. Well maybe a little," she added and looked away.

"I work locally for the most part, but I've been to America and also to Romania – the Carpathians to be exact."

"Oh my – so you have traveled a bit."

"A bit," he said and smiled.

"Romania and the Carpathians – how on earth did you end up there?"

"It's a long story."

Mary Ann shrugged her shoulders. "I suppose we have time," she said and took a bite of sandwich.

Getting too close to his sandwich, Harry swiped the bug off the table.

"We had to hunt a chap down. Pretty dirty work actually."

"Did you find him?" she asked and smiled as if the process resembled an Easter egg hunt.

Harry nodded solemnly. "Yes," he said and looked away.

Mary Ann sensed the story didn't have a happy ending and ate quietly for a few minutes and Harry used to the time to do the same. Another whiff of Mary Ann's perfume tickled the end of his nose. It set a familiar pattern of male thoughts in motion. Was it designed as such or merely a habit, he wondered. She had been almost teasing in her comments. It was like the door was cracked open a little. At the end of the day would they have a drink? Would he walk her to her door at the end of the day? Would she...

No. No, these thoughts were all wrong, he concluded and did his best to switch-off the dream-like scenario. He had a job to do. A very difficult job to do and these self indulging visions could serve no purpose. Whatever happened before this job was done, he simply could not let nature blindly take it's course. Maybe he could make the girl understand without having to go into what he was really doing on this assignment. That would help. He took a drink of the bottled water and sighed. Why did he always have to explain his predicaments to women and try and make them understand?

A few began to board the canal boat and the engines were starting up again.

"Where's our next port of call?" he asked, bundling the paper and trash.

Mary Ann dug around in the large shoulder bag and pulled out a brochure. She studied it for a few moments.

"Are you a fan of the arts – paintings and the like?"

"Certainly," he said and grinned.

"Well, the Rembrandt House Museum is next up."

After a few twists and turns the canal boat was making another stop at the Rembrandt House inside of twenty minutes. The museum was smaller than Harry had imagined and somewhat quaint. Once inside, he tried to appear interested but doubted if he was very convincing.

"Don't you just love Rembrandt?" Mary Ann asked rhetorically.

"Definitely," replied Harry.

There had been some art appreciation books in his Muggle Studies classes but, sadly, it was mostly forgotten. Fortunately the museum was small and the canal boat had to leave to make time for the other stops.

"I just hate that we couldn't stay a little longer," Mary Ann fussed.

"I know exactly what you mean."

The next stop was colorful and a pleasant diversion. The floating Flower Market seemed like acres of flowers in bloom. The market wasn't exactly floating but greenhouses lined the canal for nearly a kilometer. Every imaginable kind of flower, including seeds and bulbs were available for purchase. After Mary Ann found a few more things to throw into her bottomless bag, they hurried on to catch the boat for the next stop.

The canal boat's next port of call, at the Museum Quarter, proved to be the major museum stop for the day. Several museums including the Van Gogh were within walking distance of this stop, but Harry and Mary Ann agreed to make the Rijksmuseum the first visit and neither one regretted it. They made their way through the crowd to see Rembrandt's _The Night Watch_, which is breathtaking and probably the biggest exhibit of the museum.

Tearing themselves away after a long stay at the Rijksmuseum, the Van Gogh would be their last museum visit of the day. They were walking along the square, minutes away from the Van Gogh, when Harry spotted a sight that was more than a little surprising. It appeared Penny had given up her day at the pool and was taking in some museums of her own. She had Jimbo on one side and Harley on the other. She was looking around and lifting her Ray-Bans to verify something in a brown leather journal. Jimbo was looking like a touresty oaf in a straw hat, long oversized flower print shirt, and khaki shorts to the knee. A narrow band of pink flesh was all that showing between the end of the shorts and the top of his socks that ran to mid calf. Harley, in a tennis shirt and jeans, appeared to be feeling real physical pain as the two groups eventually met.

They all stopped and grappled for words.

"Love your outfit," Harry quipped while he gave Jimbo the obvious once over.

"Sod off Potter."

"And what happened with your day at the pool?" Harry asked Penny.

"It was a total bore. The paparazzi showed up to take pictures," she said and dismissed the whole thing with a wave of her hand.

"Those creeps," Mary Ann added and shook her head.

"Well, if she wouldn't insist on going topless," Harley added, to draw a grunt and chuckle from Jimbo.

"So what are you two been up two today?" Penny quickly injected.

"We took the museum tour," said Mary Ann.

"Was that nice?" asked Penny.

"Very nice," Many Ann said and looked at Harry for confirmation.

"Hey, maybe we all ought to check out the red light district," Jimbo said and guffawed.

"I think I'll take it in soon," Harry said and looked Penny in the eye. "Never know who you'll find on the streets at night," he added wryly.

"Potter you're a pussy," scowled Jimbo.

"Well hey – you guys enjoy the rest of your tour," Penny said politely and nudged Jimbo to trudge on.

"See ya later," Harry said and Mary Ann waved.

Harry followed Mary Ann on to the Van Gogh museum but he had trouble shaking off the thought of Penny and her two sidekicks. He had hoped, after their little talk this morning that she would be a little more dutiful and trustworthy. Had she not understood that a wizard had died last night?

Dragging Mary Ann out of the Van Gogh, Harry found a water taxi to get them back to walking distance to the hotel. An orange sun was getting lower by the minute as Harry and Mary Ann milled about uneasily in the lobby for a minute or two. Harry was thinking it would be best to thank Mary Ann for a nice day and shove off to make sure Penny and the two bodyguards stayed out of trouble.

"Well, it was a nice day... maybe I should be..."

"Hey, you feel like a beer on the terrace?" she asked and canted her head in the direction of the outdoor cafe.

"Uh... sure," he said, remembering the promise he made to himself to enjoy the holiday.

They found a table out back and Mary Ann lost the large sunglasses to reveal light green eyes. Harry waved at a waiter but they sat for a few uncomfortable moments before the young man finally showed up at their table.

"We'll have a couple of beers," Harry said idly.

"Anything in particular?" the waiter asked politely.

"Not really," Harry said and then looked at Mary Ann questionably. "Do you?" he asked her and she shook her head. "What do you recommend?"

"Well, we have some local microbreweries that are very good and we have those on special tonight?"

"That sounds great – make it two please."

"Very good," the man said and turned to leave.

"Oh, would you have any hors d'oeuvres back there?" Harry asked.

The young man smiled. "I'll try and find some!"

Harry's mood began to lighten after completing their order.

"So – how long have you been singing?" he asked.

"All my life – but I think you mean professionally, right?" she asked playfully.

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"Well, I sang in school plays and read music at University. There were a few small jobs before I found a regular position," she said and brushed some hair away from her forehead. "It's been about four years after that," she said and smiled.

Harry nodded. "I see. So how would you classify your voice?"

The waiter appeared out of thin air from behind one of the ornamental trees.

"You're going to love these, I'm sure," the waiter announced and sat down the two beers. "There wasn't much food left at the bar tonight – hope these will do," he added and sat down a small tray with what looked like fish chunks on crackers.

"They'll be fine – thanks," Harry added quickly and turned to look toward Mary Ann.

"Are you a student of voice?" she asked, still playing.

"Of course not," Harry said. "But I read a report about Penny before I took this job. She's a mezzo..."

"Mezzo soprano, yes – so am I," she said and sampled the beer. "Very good," she added and raised her brows.

"So you're classified the same then."

Mary Ann chuckled. "Hardly," she said at length. "Her vocal range is much wider – very strong."

"Is that something you can work on?"

"Sure. You can work on it," she said with a touch of indifference.

"You think you might be like Penny one day – with your own band and all?"

"Are you kidding Harry. Penny is all legs and boobs. I'm not so well endowed there."

Harry took a slow pull from the beer and made an obvious attempt to eye Mary Ann closely over the top of the mug.

"Oh, I don't know about that," he said with a grin.

"Oh, for heavens sakes. Let's stop about me – what about you," she asked with a glint of light in the green eyes. Her perfume had faded but still moved his way with a soft breeze. He was thinking her mouth was somewhat small for a singer. "How long have you been in this security business?"

"About a year – maybe a little less actually."

"And before that?"

"Training – a lot of training," he added.

"You're a mysterious gent Harry Potter."

"Not to change the subject – but where is the band's next stop?"

"You're kidding. You don't know?"

Harry shook his head.

"Rome – we're headed to Rome," she said and reached for a fish-cracker. "I would have thought Penny would have told you that."

"Well..." Harry paused and shook his head. "You know – what I said earlier – about the summer. I lied."

"Don't follow," she said and cracked an uneven smile.

"I'm kind of working on a 'here today gone tomorrow' basis."

"What do mean? You're not following the band?"

"Yes, I am, but the job could end at any time," he said, reaching for an hors d'oeuvre.

"I don't suppose it would do any good for me to ask you why?" she said and took a pull from the beer mug.

Harry chuckled. "So don't ask."

"Just gone in the night huh? Yeah, you are mysterious," she said and laughed.. "Is it dangerous too – your job?"

Harry rolled the question over in his mind. He'd given Mary Ann a fair picture of the situation. If he found the wizard he was looking for, then of course, he'd be back in London the next day. But then, who knew how long that would take. Oh well, it hardly mattered. He'd been fair with the girl and now she could gauge her emotions accordingly. He'd give her a little time to chew on it. She might decide to spit it out.

"Yes. Very," he said and watched Mary Ann's green eyes grow wide with his reply. "And speaking of my job, I'd better go check on Penny and those two goons with her. It's getting dark and they should be back now."

"Oh I see," she said and looked bothered and a little perturbed.

"But, I really enjoyed today," he said and tried to smile warmly.

"Me too," Mary Ann said nodded.

Harry rang the doorbell and knocked on Penny's door, but no one answered. He repeated the process but the door just stood there mocking him, still and unmoving.

He went to his room and changed his light colored windcheater for a dark brown zip jacket. He carefully placed the correct wand in each pocket. The black wand, to be drawn from the right liner pocket and the Holly wand from the left. He fastened the zip-fastener only an inch or two up and surveyed the results in the mirror. It looked okay and neither wand could be seen. He tried a few practice draws with each wand and found the Holly wand handle was catching under the loose zip-fastener. He rolled the fabric anti-clockwise until the wand could be extracted with no catching. He double checked in the mirror until he felt satisfied with the result.

He raced upstairs to a small door leading to the roof. He found it only a day earlier when he noticed a few sun-bathers were using it to get on the roof. It would probably be locked at night, he thought, and when he tried the knob it didn't budge an inch.

"Alohomora."

Something clicked inside the latch. He swung the door open and tentatively eased out into the night air. It was going to be a fair evening with a slight breeze and a moonlit sky.

In the course of his day with Mary Ann he had found several spots along the city tour that should be safe to apparate into. In particular, he remembered a series of steps leading to a platform under a canal bridge in the Museum Quarter. It had been over an hour ago, but that had been the last place he had seen Penny and the two bodyguards. It would be his first place to check.

Drawing a deep breath of night air and then making sure he let it all back out, he concentrated on the platform under the bridge.

With a swoosh followed with a little snap, he was off like a thief in the night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta**

**Chapter 9.**

Regaining corporeal form on the small platform under the canal bridge, Harry paused a moment to give his senses time to acclimate before gingerly climbing the stone stairway to the walkway above. There was a couple under the bridge so engaged he didn't think they noticed him. He earned more odd looks as he entered the street from the partially hidden stairway. He was still over a block away from the 'square', which was a large grassy area, the size of a football pitch, encircled by walkways. Several paths fanned out from the square to the museums.

After checking the Van Gogh, the Stedelijk and doubling back to hit the Rijksmuseaum last, he had seen nothing of Penny and her two side-kicks. The most frustrating thing about it was, he didn't really expect to find them there, but he was compelled to begin in the Museum Quarter where he last saw them. He remembered the crack Jimbo made about going to the Red Light district and the more he thought about it, the more he felt they had ventured off in that direction. He could check the hotel once more and if the trio was still missing, he'd get a travel brochure and map of the Red Light district.

Concentrating on the hotel roof, he forced himself to focus until he began spinning through a rubber tube to settle on the roof only a moment later. The roof access door was still unlocked and he made his way very quickly to Penny's suite. Banging on her door – there was still no answer.

Back down the lift to the front desk and almost out of breath, he caught the desk attendant before she could disappear.

"Excuse me."

"Yes," the female attendant said, noticing his impatience. "Can I help you."

"I'm Harry Potter – security with the band. Has Miss Penthane left any word for me?"

She quickly looked in a basket on the desk and checked her computer.

"No sir – none that I can find," she said, apologetically.

"Did she leave word any at all?"

"I'm sorry sir." she said, slowly shaking her he head. "I can't help you."

"You look lost Potter!"

Harry snapped around to see Ace Varney with one of the girls in the orchestral backup.

"Ace, have you see anything of Penny?" Harry asked with a touch of desperation.

Ace stopped to give the question his full attention, and then slowly shook his head.

"Sorry mate – haven't seen anything of her. Is there a problem?"

"No – probably not – just don't know where she got off to," Harry said and clenched his jaw.

"Well, you're security mate," he said with a grin. "I'm sure you'll find her," he added and slapped Harry on the shoulder for consolation and scurried off toward the revolving door.

The desk clerk was still trapped behind the desk with a helpless look on her face.

"Can you call me a taxi?" Harry asked the girl.

"I think there's a taxi out front now sir," she said while craning her neck toward the front to verify.

"Thanks," he replied and followed Ace through the still spinning door.

Just as the girl promised, there was a black taxi just off the main entrance.

The driver reached behind him and opened the rear door as soon as he saw Harry approach the taxi.

"Good evening sir – where to?"

"Well, I've got a little problem. I think I've lost some friends in the red-light district."

"Where in the red-light district?" he asked.

"I don't where they are – we'll have to find them," Harry replied. He could see the driver pull a face in the mirror.

"The red-light district is pretty big sir," he explained.

"Yeah, I know, but we'll look just the same," he said, patiently.

The driver's picture was hanging just below the passenger side visor. The name under the picture read 'Rodrigo'.

"They're tourists – probably just looking around the normal sights," added Harry.

"Yes sir – but all of the Red-Light district is full of tourists at night."

Harry knew very little about the red-light district except what he'd read in the book borrowed from Hermione. Mary Ann had referred to it as a decadent area of the city. Apparently it was where everything and anything went down on a regular basis. The taxi driver didn't seem too happy about earning a fare in this part of town. As they neared the district, the only roads in this old section of the city were little alleys on either side of the canals. Rodrigo was right, the streets were packed with gawking tourists drifting along the store fronts to check out the tawdry sights.

Like a swimming Salmon, the taxi was headed upstream into a swarm of revelers and barely making any progress at all. You couldn't see more than a few paces ahead and the crowd behind would quickly fill in the wake behind the vehicle.

Along the streets on the other side of the canal is where Harry had the best view.

"If you see a big clown in a yellow print shirt, please yell," Harry instructed Rodrigo from the painful image of Jimbo's shirt.

"No problem," Rodrigo answered.

They crept along for nearly fifteen minutes with no sign of Penny or any hooded wizards.

"We'll have to turn up ahead – by the bridge," said the driver.

"Good – the other side looks better," Harry said while still searching the streets. The taxi crossed the canal bridge and the driver began to make a left turn back on the street they had been watching from the other side.

"Wait," Harry said and he looked to the right.

"There's nothing down there sir."

Harry had seen a flash of light that didn't fit the surroundings. It looked like a small lighting strike, the telltale signature of a curse.

"Yeah I know, but let's go anyway," he instructed.

"It's a waste of time, but it's your money," the driver said and with a look of a annoyance.

Suddenly, the last thing he wanted to see came clearly into view. Jimbo and Penny were standing defensively against a building. Harley was on the ground and three cloaked wizards were slowly easing toward them.

"Stop – right here," Harry said and reached in his pocket for a twenty Euro note. He gave the note to the driver and started out the door.

"That's not enough for the fare – we've been at it for forty minutes," he said angrily.

"Go back to the hotel. The desk can make arrangements for your money," Harry said, never taking his eyes off the scene.

The driver began to argue.

"It's going to get nasty here in just a moment – NOW GO," Harry yelled and slammed to the door shut. The driver shook his head and accelerated across the bridge and Harry backed into the shadows while never taking his eyes off Penny and the three wizards.

Only a moment after the car was out of sight, Harry saw Jimbo reaching for a weapon under the long yellow shirttail. Before Jimbo could clear the weapon, a white hot curse hit him in the chest a second later. The effects of the stunning curse knocked the big man backwards and he tumbled to his back. With wands extended the other two wizards were moving toward Penny. She was clutching the brown leather journal and trying to back into the wall.

It was not always possible to apparate into a spot and end up facing the right direction, but that might be his only chance to intervene before this was over. With both wands in hand, he focused very hard on a spot between two wizards and the pulled the apparition trigger.

When he landed with a zip and a pop, he was close enough to the first wizard that the force of air blew open his cloak. He hit the wizard between the wide open eyes and gaping mouth with a stunning curse. In the next tempo he caught the second wizard in the chest as the man was turning to face him. Already, and quicker than expected, from the wand of the last wizard was a green jet coming out of the tip of his wand. He had to flinch hard with a cross-over to get back on-line in time to parry the killing curse.

"EXPELLIARMUS," he shouted, to strengthen the spell, and the curse was almost upon him before he got the word out of his mouth. The two curses met with a huge slap and explosion of light. Harry beat back the green jet for a few seconds then deflected the killing curse skyward. He then reached over with the free wand and hit the man with a pissed-off stunning curse. The hooded wizard went tumbling backwards with a somersault and fell into a heap.

Quickly, he walked over to each man, ready for any surprise maneuvers, he kicked each wizards wand free of their hands. There would no repeat of his mistake with the last wizard. Tonight he would get some questions answered.

"Incarcerous," he conjured, and the vines of the curse erupted from the wand tip to completely wrap the wizard. He turned toward the first wizards he hit and repeated the whole process until all were secured. With the wizards completely wrapped in the vines of the curse he turned toward Penny. She was still backed against the wall, breathing deep breaths now and still clutching the journal tightly to her bosom.

"Well," she said exhaled the huge breath. "I'm damn glad you showed up."

"You okay?" he asked and Penny nodded quick little nods. "What about Harley?"

"Stunning spell I think – he's out cold though."

"I think Jimbo got the same."

"Yes," she said, solemnly.

He looked over to the last wizard he hit. He was awake and struggling against the vines of the Incarcerous curse.

"Well," Harry said. "Since you like to throw killing curses, we'll start with you."

The wizard let out a long breath but said nothing.

"Do you want what your friend got? Or will you talk?"

"You killed Menteith?"

"Was that his name?" asked Harry and the wizard and shook his head. "He killed himself. But you won't – you've no wand."

"What do you want?" the wizard asked, talking through his teeth.

"To know what it is you want!" Harry said with a wave of the wand.

"We're a friend of Lasaurus. We work for him – that's all I can say."

"So what does he want – this friend of yours?" demanded Harry.

"What is his!"

"I'm sorry – you'll have to be a little more specific than that," Harry said, raising the black wand. "Especially when you throw killing curses."

The man's eyes widened with anger and fear.

Harry pointed the wand at the man's head. "Did you fight two Aurors in London?" he asked and walked menacing around the figure laying on the cobblestone street.

The wizard lay stone still and quiet.

"CRUCI..."

"HARRY," screamed Penny. "It's Police... they're coming!"

Harry jerked around to look up the alley. Two small cars with flashing blue lights were tearing down the narrow street.

"We've got to get out of here," Penny yelled and stuffed the journal into her waistband.

"We've got to get them together," he said, looking down at Harley and then Jimbo.

"Well, grab Harley," Penny said and reached for a leg. Together they began to drag Harley over to Jimbo.

"Grab their hands," Harry instructed. "They won't be able to help so hold on tight."

With blue lights almost on top of them, Penny dropped to her knees and picked up Jimbo's and Harley's lifeless hands to join them with hers. Harry dropped down to grab the two guards and complete the circle. With the two police cars coming to a stop, all four began spinning through a spiraling tube of apparition.

They quickly came to rest on the roof of the Grand Hotel Krasnapolsky. The long hot drought conditions were finally over and the rain was coming down in a light sprinkle. The drizzling rain was waking Harley. Jimbo was mostly still out of it, but beginning to move.

They roused the groggy pair and helped down the stairs to their adjoining suite off of Penny's room.

"What the bloody fuckin hell was that," Jimbo finally managed to ask. Harley was shaking his head but appeared happy to be back in his room.

"I thought we were dead," he said and plopped down in the bed, reaching for his head.

Harry motioned to leave and the two quietly left Jimbo and Harley to themselves. Penny unlocked her door with a key-card she produced from one of the jean pockets.

"I guess you'll want to talk about this," she said with a sullen look.

"Yes."

"Well, I need a change. What about you?" she asked as Harry took off the brown zip jacket and hung it on the back of a chair at the bar.

"Just a towel."

"Sure," she said and disappeared to return with a fluffy white towel. "Be back in a minute."

With a fresh outfit and her hair tied behind her in a plait, she looked all new and refreshed like nothing had happened.

"You feel like going down for coffee?" he asked, hoping to get out of her room and look for something in the lobby.

She nodded, "Yeah that'll work."

The only place open was the bar. They found an isolated table in the corner. They appeared to be the only guests drinking coffee. A few were smoking, which was not considered as offensive in Amsterdam as it would be in cities elsewhere.

"Look – Harry, I'm sorry about this," she said. Harry shook his head and said nothing. "I know I shouldn't have gone out without telling you. And walking around at night was probably the last thing to do."

"You could have been killed. I was lucky to find you when I did."

"How did you find us?"

"I saw you from a taxi across the canal. Are you going to be doing this kind of thing again? If you are..." he stopped in mid-sentence and looked away.

"I knew you were angry with me, and I didn't want to bother you today," she said and cupped her hand over his. "But I admit – walking the red-light at night was pretty brainless. It won't happen again – I promise."

"Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure. What if they send more next time?"

"Damn, I don't know Harry, you handled yourself pretty good back there."

"Penny – are you listening?"

"Yeah I hear you – and it won't happen again. But, I'm curious now – just how many _could_ you handle Harry?" she asked and rolled the corner of her mouth in a wry grin.

He paused but didn't answer at first.

"It depends – on how the conflict starts. Everything depends on the start," he said and reflected. " As for the number... that's confidential. Besides, it doesn't matter. I don't want to have to run you down again. Are you good with this?" he asked firmly as he looked deeply into silvery grey eyes.

"Yes, of course Harry," she said and Harry continued to look her in the eye for any hint of deception. Her gaze was solid and reassuring.

"There won't be a next time," she added, "and I'm thinking of canceling the remaining shows."

"What, just pick up stakes and head to Rome?"

"Yeah," she said with a sharp nod and looked off into space.

‡‡‡‡‡

All of Amsterdam awoke the next morning to a deluge of rain and cool wind. The hot dry spell that had swept across all of Europe was finally over. With a light rain beating against the window, it took all the strength Harry could muster to get out of bed.

Throwing on a terrycloth gown and dragging toward the shower, he noticed an envelope had been slid under the door. He went back to the bedside table for his glasses and tore open the note. He walked over to the window for enough light to read.

Good morning to the band and crew:

Due to circumstances outside our control

We'll be ending our shows in Amsterdam.

So brush up on your Italian. We should be in

Rome by early tomorrow morning.

Have your bags outside your door by 5 pm.

We'll be catching a late flight out tonight and

I look forward to seeing you in Rome tomorrow.

Penny.

There was a personal note inside the note. It Read:

Harry,

I'd like you to take the flight, rather than just showing

up at the hotel like you did the last time.

Thanks,

Penny

Harry didn't mind the flight; it felt good to be leaving Amsterdam, one way or the other. Too many hooded wizards. He looked out over the city and the steady rain. Now – what in the hell to do until the evening flight? Without a clue, he threw the note on the table and headed for the shower.

The breakfast queue was still in place as the hour neared nine. He looked around for Mary Ann but didn't see a hair of her cute bushy head. He ordered simple and rushed through the queue. In a far corner of the garden room, Ace, Beatty, and a few backup band members were gathered around a large table. Not really feeling like a part of the band, he found a small table by the door with a copy of the _Times_ left behind.

Somewhere between the poached egg and the melon slice, Penny entered the room followed by her dutiful entourage. She was wearing the large Ray-Bans and Harley and Jimbo both looked like hell. She looked over to notice Harry and gave him one of those cute finger waves. Giving her a casual nod of recognition, he went back to focusing on the melon slice. He had hoped for another cup of coffee before he left, but getting a waiter to the table at this hour of the morning was damned near impossible.

At a small gift shop in the lobby, he browsed for something to help kill a day. The magazines were all in the wrong language. There was a small selection of books that might contain something readable, he thought. After a long search, he settled on _Blue at the Mizzen_ by Patrick O'Brian. He wasn't quite sure why he picked this one, it just looked to be a literary standout from the rest of the pulp on the top ten shelf.

‡‡‡‡‡

Between the _Times_ and the book from the gift shop Harry had managed to avoid boredom for most of the afternoon. For once he had charged his mobile phone and made sure Penny had his number. The heavy rain had subsided to a fine mist and patches of blue sky were beginning to shine through as the coach neared the Schiphol airport.

Being first out the coach door served two purposes: One, as any security person, he could help others off while watching out for trouble. And two: being the last to leave would hide from others the inadequate luggage he had brought along for the trip.

He said a brief hello to Mary Ann. She had been chatting with some other guy on the ride over. Schiphol airport was considered by many to be the airport example for all others to follow. The place was spread out into a number of concourses and terminals like any other, but once inside you had the feeling you were in a shopping mall. He checked baggage and kept his trusty rucksack as carry-on. The customs gate was closer to their terminal than most airports and the queue was shorter than expected.

Flashing his credentials wallet, he breezed through security and made his way toward terminal D, Gate 12. The motorized walkway wasn't a necessity but was loads of fun if you walked with it to increase your speed. Remembering to stop walking before reaching the end of the walkway he got off without looking like a total klutz. He spotted Mary Ann and her new friend browsing one of the shops full of electronic gadgets.

Ignoring all the shopping possibilities in this concourse, Harry went directly to the gate and found a seat that afforded him a view of his gate and several others. Somewhere in the middle of _Blue at the Mizzen_, he remembered a lecture and exercise from Ms Rosemarkie. She was an instructor at the Ministry and after Harry joined the special branch, she'd been a part of his regular training regime. Sometimes a very scathing woman, she had been both a blessing and a curse.

It was Harry's job after joining the special branch of the Auror service to bring enemies of the Ministry to justice, no matter where they might be hiding on the planet.

'You're swimming through a sea of Muggles.' She would often say. Everything she said or taught was aimed at getting you to understand that wizards stood apart from Muggles. To further handicap your situation, wizards naturally spent too much time looking for other wizards in this occupation. It's all very unnatural and easy to spot if you know what to look for.

The exercise Ms Rosemarkie devised was one that involved an airport terminal and gate very much like the one they were in. The exercise involved two candidates. Each was told to spot a wizard waiting in the gating area. As an advantage they would stand behind a curtain and watch the waiting area through a small hole.

The next exercise was a little tougher. You had to sit in the waiting area and try and guess who the other candidate was without being caught first.

Of course the exercise was a switch with each candidate getting his turn behind the curtain. But it worked all the same. People generally wrap themselves in a bubble while waiting. Some will sit facing the concourse walkway and watch the walkers go by – mostly men watching the women, but nevertheless they're in a bubble all the same. Children will play along the windows while watching the big planes. Some people will toy with their smart phones, read books or kindles, play with i-pads, talk to a friend or spouse. Some are nervous about flying and try and lose themselves in some activity to forget, but they don't forget and the nervousness will show.

Of course it was a cinch to spot the wizard candidate. It was obvious his attention was not confined to any bubble. Every few minutes or so, he would reposition himself to get a different look at another section of the waiting area. Every few seconds he would look around, never in the same direction, and then go back to the magazine. It had been an illuminating exercise.

_Thank you Ms Rosemarkie_. Unless he was greatly mistaken, sitting a few aisles over was a pretty witch. She was quite distracted by a child's small remote control toy. Harry liked to call that the 'Rubber Duck Syndrome', named of course after Arthur Weasley's famous question at the Burrow many years ago.

'Now, here's the rub,' Ms Rosemarkie would say. 'The witch or wizard you've spotted may be a decoy. The one you're after may be hiding in the crowd and watching you watching them. So don't stare and be a victim of the same game. Don't make it obvious you've found another magical being.'

Trying not to pay too much attention to the woman he'd identified as a witch, Harry played out a deadly scenario in his mind. And it worked out like this: another wizard hiding in the gate area had spied him watching the pretty witch who was a decoy. There would be several hours before the boarding began for his flight. When he finally got up to go to the men's room his enemy would follow him. It would be the last piss he would ever take.

Paranoia? Perhaps, but Ms Rosemarkie would flay his skin for not considering the possibility of such a thing. But who was the witch? Was she a friend of this mysterious order? If she was that would make her a threat to him and to Penny.

As casually as possible, he would occasionally lift his eyes from the book. The woman was dressed in smart business attire, with a dark blue skirt, and matching blue jacket over a powder blue blouse. She wore black heels of a modest height and thin rimmed glasses. She was clutching a black leather portfolio in her lap and looking around occasionally with nervous anticipation. He studied the lapel area of her jacket but could see no evidence of the tell-tale protrusion of a wand.

Making a show of looking at his watch and checking the mobile phone, he got up from the chair and stretched a bit. Moving diagonally across the gating area he went into a men's shop he had seen earlier. Browsing through a clothing rack that faced the gate area, he looked back at the woman for any clue. She was still seated in the same position as before and clutching the leather portfolio.

Leaving the men's shop, he paused by a booth, selling tempting refreshments. He ordered a soft drink and set down at a small table, still facing gate 12. A few band members began filing into the area. The woman in question looked up to take notice of every one of them entering the area. With only thirty minutes until they were scheduled to board the flight, time was running out. He rolled several plans around in his head but every one of them required the help of another woman or witch. Damn-it – where was Hermione when you needed her.

There was no way he could confront the woman in the gating area. If she would only leave the room. If she would visit the ladies lavatory that might offer up a curious opportunity. Now entering the gate area were two generous sized policemen. The woman got up to meet the policemen by the desk of the boarding agent. The trio chatted for a minute or two, that seemed like hours.

Coming down the terminal walkway was Penny with the oversized Ran-Bans. Jimbo and Harley were in tow with Penny's carry-on bags thrown over their shoulders. The woman in question looked around the broad shoulders of the policemen to point at Penny. Still without a plan, he decided to see how things would play out before acting. The woman was saying something to Penny, that sounded like: 'Electra Penthane? I'm sorry but you'll have to come with me.' Penny was responding and throwing her arms out helplessly as if to say: 'Like hell – I've got a plane to catch.'

Harley and Jimbo were more than evenly matched by the two oversized Policemen. It was time to join the party. Tossing the drink in a dustbin along the way, he meandered through the gate area and approached the woman from behind.

"What's going on here?" he asked and displayed his U.K. NCIS credentials for all to see.

"We're being detained Harry," Penny spit out the reply.

The woman immediately turned around to check out Harry from head to toe.

"And you look like the other one we're after," she said at length.

"Other one? What are you talking about?"

"We can speak in a room down there," she said and looked down the concourse.

The first passengers were being called to board the plane.

"We have a plane to catch," Harry reiterated.

The woman looked over to another gate opposite from theirs. She nodded slightly, and a tall slender man stood up and weaved his way toward them, carrying a rolled newspaper he was swatting against his thigh.

:

* * *

**A/N**: Up to this point Harry, possibly with issues, had been rather cold and automatic. Not, that that's all bad for a guy in his occupation, but it's probably not the best for fanfiction. The story will get a little more emotional and saucier shortly, I promise.

Thanks for reading and remember to review...


	10. Chapter 10

**Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta**

**Chapter 10.**

"You two take off," Penny instructed Jimbo and Harley. "We'll be there as soon as we get this business cleared up," she said to Harley and pulled her carry-on bag off his shoulder.

Harley nodded reluctantly and then pushed Jimbo into the boarding queue. The two bodyguards looked back at Penny like a couple of puppies left at the veterinarian. Harry was beginning to realize she could have that effect on you.

The mystery woman tapped Penny on the shoulder and pointed down the concourse.

"It's that way," she said, dryly.

Penny turned and began the walk down the long concourse. The woman followed Penny and Harry followed her. The footsteps of the tall slender man could be clearly heard behind Harry's left shoulder.

After a few hundred paces, the woman paused to speak.

"Down this way please," she said and pointed to a narrow hallway. Penny nodded with a smirk and made the right hand turn down the hall.

"Right here," she woman said and unlocked a door to a business office. Harry looked back to see the tall man instructing the two policemen to remain and the entrance of the hall.

They entered the room and the woman pointed to a long and oval business table.

"Have a seat please," she instructed.

"Okay, what's this all about?" Penny demanded as she pulled up a chair and plopped down.

"Are you Electra Penthane?" asked mystery woman.

"One and only. So what have I done?"

"Are you in a hurry to leave Amsterdam Miss Penthane?" the woman asked coolly.

"Not really, but what of it - is that against the law?" Penny quipped and woman ignored the remark.

"Were you in the red-light district last night?" the woman asked in a firm professional tone.

"Okay – okay, just a minute," Penny said and raised her palm. "Just who the hell are you?"

"There's one more question I must ask before I tell you," the woman said.

"What's that?" Penny asked with raised brows.

"Are you a witch? And your friend," she asked and glared at Harry. "He's a wizard?"

"What kind of question is that?" Penny asked at length.

"It's the kind of question I _have_ to ask before we can continue this conversation," the woman explained calmly. "Otherwise, we may be here a while."

Harry felt it was time to pipe in. "U.K. Ministry of Magic..." The woman snapped around to face him. "And you are?" he thought to ask.

"Netherlands Institution of Magic. Is that what you're looking for? Now can we talk?"

"Okay, we're all on the same page now – so what's the problem? Why are we here?" he asked.

She squinted as if unsure of herself.

"Could I see that card again," she said and extended her hand. Harry handed her the NCIS credentials wallet.

"Mister Potter then," she said as she eyed the card critically. "This card says NCIS."

"Yes, that's what we use when we travel abroad," Harry explained.

"What you're supposed to do is contact the Netherlands Institution of Magic before you come into this country."

Harry began to answer and the woman raised her hand. When she did, Harry spotted a black wand holster under her left armpit. That explained why he couldn't spot any protrusions under her jacket lapels.

"Okay – what we have here is this. Police last night, stumbled on something in the Red-Light district they couldn't explain," the witch said and cleared her throat. "Would any of you care for water," she asked and got up get a bottled water from a cooler.

"Sure," Penny said and Harry nodded.

"Frederick?" she asked the tall slender one. Harry didn't hear the man respond but the witch handed him a bottle.

"What's your name?" Harry asked the witch. "You've asked us ours now tell us yours."

"Vanderviere. Amy Vanderviere. Now, getting back to the Red-Light district. The police called us in after they found these men bound by the vines of an Incarcerous curse."

"That's right," Harry said and nodded.

"Under questioning, the two men said you tortured them with a Cruciatus curse and killed one of their friends the night before," she said and took a drink of water.

"That's a lie," Harry said firmly. "These wizards have been stalking Miss Penthane. They killed an Auror and badly injured another in London."

"Right now, all I have is your word against their's," she said. "You didn't kill a wizard or use the Cruciatus curse?"

"I did, while questioning the wizard, use the Cruciatus curse to obtain answers. But I didn't kill him."

"We found the body," she snapped.

"I didn't kill him – he killed himself to avoid further questions."

"So you've admitted to using an unforgivable curse. That's illegal," she said sternly.

"I have a license to use the unforgivable curses in the line of duty."

"Not in the Netherlands Mister Potter. You don't even have the right to be here without permission. And, I'll have to ask for your wands – we know you carry two,"she asked, rather smugly.

There was an uncomfortable silence for several moments. Being an Auror of the special branch, Harry was aware of a few codicils in the laws between countries.

"First, there's a couple of things you need to be aware of," he said as if explaining to a child. "One: an Auror never gives up his wand – you know this. And two: there are exceptions to the law you mentioned. Under a threat to national security we do indeed have the right, with fleeing criminals, to enter without notification."

"So you call these men a threat to your national security?" she asked and pulled a face.

"They claimed to be an order. Our Ministry was attacked last year by men who called themselves an order," he replied.

The woman took a deep breath and thought about what Harry had said before constructing a reply.

"The wizard that died – his wand was sent to you. You can check the last spell," Harry injected.

She gave a brief sigh and then looked up. "Okay, I'll check your story out. Who do I speak with at your Ministry?"

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," Harry replied.

Ms Vanderviere left the room and Harry could hear the door lock behind her. He wondered if the room was magically locked as well. He assumed it was.

:

It was two hours later when Ms Vanderviere unlocked the door and re-entered the room. She had a small pile of papers in hand and looked a bit flustered.

"I have some papers for you both to sign," she said at last.

"What kind of papers?" asked Harry.

"Shacklebolt confirmed your story – and your other reasons for being here," she said and glanced at Penny. "But if it turns out there's more to this story than you've told us, then you'll have to return. Maybe that's another addition to the law you didn't know about," she said with a smile and divided the papers out between Harry and Penny.

Quickly, they both signed the papers and looked questionably at Miss Vanderviere.

"Can we go now?" Harry asked, impatiently.

"Yes – and don't come back," she said firmly. "Not without going through the proper procedures."

Harry nodded, thinking he would never come back under any conditions. The tall slim man was still seated and looked at Harry and Penny without being able to hide his disappointment.

Ms Vanderviere unlocked the door and held it open for Penny and Harry.

"We were going to Rome - are there any flights left?" asked Penny.

"No, I'm afraid not. If you need assistance in finding a room – we can help," she added, unconvincingly.

"Thanks, but we'll make do," Penny said with polite but firm indifference.

‡‡‡‡‡

The morning sun poured into the window of the big airbus as it banked on final for the Leonardo da Vinci International Airport. Harry gave Penny the window seat and she was tentatively peering out at the rooftops below.

They had immediately booked the earliest flight for Rome after telling Miss Vanderviere to sod-off. It was nearly ten pm when they finished a a small meal and a few drinks in the new concourse for the smaller flight. After a few more drinks they discussed the possibility of finding rooms, but Penny didn't want to risk more trouble by leaving the airport. They found the terminal for the morning flight and spent the night in most comfortable chairs they could find. Awake, Penny was cool, diffident, and professional, but several times during the evening he found her resting her head on his shoulder. By morning, he desperately needed the loo but held it for another hour to avoid waking the sleeping beauty.

As the bustling of morning traffic roused Penny from partial slumber, she rose and disappeared into the women's lavatory with the large glove leather carry-on. A few minutes later she emerged as fresh as the month of March, with new heeled sandals, fresh jeans struggling taut from her lower body muscularity and a clean button-up top. Her misbehaving coal-black hair was plaited behind her and the Ran-Bans covered her eyes, pink from sleep depravity.

Harry doused water over his face and hands to wake up and took off down the concourse to fetch the morning coffee. After the coffee, he felt sorely awake and somewhat refreshed. He was happy to be out of Amsterdam and felt recharged after the quiet evening. Penny, on the other hand, had appeared troubled and out of sorts when apart from the band and it's members. She was polite and smiled kindly to his attempts at conversation, but she appeared to suffer in spirit.

With a squall of protest and a small bounce followed by a short screech, the Airbus touched down and rolled gently to a stop before turning off the runway. Out of it's element and as comical as a duck walking, the big plane bobbed up and down as it wallowed along the narrow taxi lane. The planes wasn't fully booked and they un-boarded with little delay.

"Let me text Harley," Penny said as they rushed to the baggage area. "Hopefully they took our bags to the hotel."

"Sure."

Penny finished texting the message and smiled. After a few moments the phone played a musical tone to signal his reply.

"They've got the bags. Good. Let's go," she said and spun toward departure lobby leaving Harry in tow.

Twenty minutes later they were nearing the Grande Hotel de la Minerve. The closer they got to the hotel and to the band the more Penny's mood and spirits began to lift.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" she asked.

"These streets are as narrow as Diagon Alley," he replied, ignoring the taxi driver.

She laughed but didn't reply. Within a few minutes they were in the middle of the Piazza de Minerve, which amounted to a large cobblestone square or close. The majestic Pantheon was on the opposite side of the square and just a few steps from the hotel. Jumping out of the taxi, Penny was almost in the hotel before she remembered the fair. Harry was digging in his pockets for loose change, but didn't have nearly enough. She stopped, turned to see what was the matter, and let out a little gasp.

"Sorry about that – completely forgot," she said and raced back to the taxi while unzipping the big leather carry-on. She dug out a wad of bills and handed to the driver and immediately turned back toward the hotel. Harry guessed Jimbo or Harley normally took care of things like that. The driver made a face, shoved the money into his pocket, and sped away.

The atrium entrance of the hotel was palatial and completely mood altering. In a state of humbled awe, Harry had never seen anything like it. Penny just looked around and smiled at the cold marble accented by warm wood and butter smooth leather furniture. The deep domed ceiling was artificially illuminated behind stained glass. Mirrors, statues, and glass doors led to halls trailing away from the stunning centerpiece of the great room.

Finding the hotel desk hidden in a small room behind one of the doors, they confirmed their reservations and headed toward their rooms. Since they were due to arrive the night before there would no waiting for the room.

"See you at dinner tonight Harry," Penny said with a smile and quickly scurried off.

"See ya tonight," he said casually, trying to pretend he wouldn't miss her a bit.

After signing in and acquiring his room key card, he suddenly felt an acute and urgent need for a shower. After spending a night in the airport gating area, the resulting sticky feeling was overpowering.

Popping open the door to his room, he was relieved to find his oversized garment bag hanging on a hook. It was a moderate room for a five start hotel, but nothing to complain about. The city view outside the window wasn't bad at all. From where the hotel was located, there would be a famous view in any direction.

While putting away his things he noticed a little light on his mobile phone was blinking. He fumbled with the phone, trying to identify the caller. He almost never used the mobile and he cursed his clumsiness. After a minute or two, he found the menu to identify the caller, and it was from the Ministry. He gently laid the phone on the dresser with the intention of returning the ring later.

He took a hot shower – hot enough to eliminate that oily feeling you get when it's been too long. In a fat terrycloth gown, he sat down in the chair by the window and pulled up the padded footrest. He dialed the Ministry number.

"Ministry of Magic," the operator answered with a professional voice.

"Yes... Harry Potter here..."

"Good morning sir. How can I help?"

"I'm in the field you understand, but apparently I missed a call from someone at the ministry," he explained.

"And you don't who it was sir?"

"No I don't. If you could get a message to Kingsley to ring back."

"Yes sir – right away."

"Thanks..."

A few minutes later, the unfamiliar ring tone from the mobile interrupts the silence.

"Hello..."

"Harry!"

"Hermione! Was it you that called?"

"For sure – I hate to interrupt your holiday. But it's been a while you know and we've been wondering."

"Well it's been rotten, but it's good to hear from you."

"Did you get that business in Amsterdam cleared up?"

"Yeah. Apparently they cleared my story through the Ministry," he said.

"And where're you at now?"

"Rome!"

"Hmmm. That must be nice."

"It is – from what little I've seen. We just got here."

"So, what happened in Amsterdam? Sounds like you're happy to be out."

"Exactly right! Too many hooded wizards," he explained.

"That's strange – why the hoods?"

"An Order of some kind. You know anything about them?"

"There's all kinds of wizarding Orders Harry. Can you narrow it down a bit?"

"Well, they all wear the crudely woven cloaks and hoods."

"That's not much to go on," she barked. "Anything else? Marks, tattoos, badges, rings, anything to signify rites of initiation or passage?"

"No, I'm afraid not Hermione."

"That's not much help Harry. Is there nothing else?"

"Well, they all mention a wizard named Lasaurus," he said.

"Lasaurus? Okay, I'll check into it."

"Good, I'll ring back then."

"Are you planning to get back here anytime soon?" she asked.

"Uh... yeah. I think the band has the weekend off. I'd been thinking of then."

"You might want to look Ron up. He's back at the Burrow now," she said with a hint of enthusiasm.

"I'll do that – tell him I said hello – and you take care."

"You be careful Harry," she said at length.

"Always. See ya Hermione."

"Goodbye Harry," she said, affectionately and rang off.

He leaned back, reflecting on their conversation. He wondered if Hermione's concern was professional or personally motivated, and then he scolded himself for the thought. If she had been on assignment and out of the country for more than a week he would be more than a little concerned. But sometimes, he wondered if he never returned home and his wands were mailed back to the Ministry, would anyone really give a damn? He turned off the thought. He was trying to feel sorry for himself again.

A short break would do him good and he was beginning to miss Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron. He wished he could get a message to Hannah, but that would be difficult, stuck in the middle of Rome. He still thought about her and wondered if her promise to go to dinner would still be good when he got back. He remembered her sun bleached hair and golden skin. Wallowing in luxurious thoughts as long as possible he reminded himself he still had a job to do.

A quick tour around the hotel and then going up to the roof, Harry found nothing out of the order or anything that might be a significant weakness. There was a nice area on the roof set aside for sunbathing. He had a quick vision of Sandy dropping her top and then clicked off the thought. After a walk around the hotel, he also felt the alley around the property was safe enough with no hidden entryways or other means of access. The delivery gate stopped at the rear entry for the kitchen. Anyone trying to sneak into the hotel that way would have to go through too many employees to make it a feasible means of entry.

Because the band's arrival was several days early, the evening meal was rather simple. Mary Ann was sitting with the same guy he saw her with at the airport. When she saw him she waved and he nodded back with a smile. Earning some new respect, he was seated down from Penny behind Harley and Jimbo. Jimbo had cooled off a bit, but possibly because of his massive physicality, he still sneered at Harry whenever he could.

It was difficult to judge, by the way she was dressed, if Penny was planning to go out for the evening. He hadn't received any notes to warn him and he felt out of the loop. Ace Varney was sticking around her pretty close and he guessed the pair were probably planning an evening out. The meal was breaking up. Better to catch her now.

"Can we chat for a moment?" he asked.

"Sure. What about?"

"Your plans for the weekend," he said and canted his head to a door leading to a convenient sitting room. She nodded and followed.

"I'll be careful – I promise," she said, once they were inside.

Harry nodded. "Good. But, there's something else..."

"_Yeah_, what's that?" she asked.

"Since the band isn't playing this weekend, I was hoping you could stay out of trouble long enough for me to slip back to London?"

"Over the weekend?"

"Well, of course. I'll be back in a day or two," he said and nodded.

"Why sure Harry – has something come up?"

"No... I just need to get back for a little while," he said at length.

Penny just stood there, looking hard into his eyes with an expression like she was reading his mind.

"Sure Harry. I guess it never occurred to me you had much going on back there. Besides work."

She stood there patiently, obviously wanting more of an answer than he was willing to give.

"Well, I'd like to check with Ron," he finally said.

She nodded a little animated nod. "Do I know her Harry?" she said and curled the corner of her mouth into a wry grin.

"Look Penny – you _will_ be careful?"

"Absolutely." she replied, still smiling.

"Are you going out tonight?" he asked.

"Just for a few drinks – we won't be out late."

"You've got my mobile number?"

She nodded, then smiled. "Goodnight Harry."

He watched her until she was almost out of the door. Just before she disappeared, she turned to smile and waved goodbye.

‡‡‡‡‡

He really should have taken a port key. It was the longest jump via apparition he had taken yet. He seemed to spiral through the rubber tube of apparition forever before touching down behind Grimmauld Place. Taking a few extra moments to pull himself together, he took a deep breath and then entered Grimmauld Place from the yard. He looked around for Kreacher, but the old house-elf was nowhere to be found.

Penny had stayed out of trouble the night before. She was at breakfast and at a decent hour. He had touched base with her one more time before heading out. She promised him sincerely that she was staying at the hotel during the weekend and cautioned him not to worry. He had come to believe Penny's promises weren't worth the paper they were printed on.

His plans for the day would start with him dropping in on Ron around mid-morning. If Molly insisted he stay for lunch, he'd stop by the Leaky Cauldron sometime that afternoon.

With a little zip and a pop, Kreacher took corporeal form in the kitchen. The old elf was carrying a couple of bags of groceries from Diagon Alley.

"Good Morning Kreacher."

"Good morning sir. Didn't expect you in – can I fix something for breakfast sir?"

"Oh no Kreacher," he replied, "I've already had breakfast. Maybe tomorrow."

"Very good sir," the old elf replied and scampered off toward the cupboard with his large feet slapping the floor.

"Oh Kreacher."

"Yes sir?"

"If you could clean these today?" Harry asked and lifted the garment bag full of clothes.

"Certainly sir," he said and continued to the cupboard.

It was nice to be back at Grimmauld Place. He stayed longer than he planned before quietly sneaking out the back door. From the yard behind Grimmauld Place, he let his mind relax and focused on the garden around the Burrow. With a flash of morning light, he could feel his feet go light and then heavy again as he settled on the ground of the Burrow. He opened his eyes to the familiar and idyllic sight. The door was open and Molly Weasley was sweeping something toward the door in a checkered apron. She looked up to see him pausing by the entryway.

"Harry! You gave me a start dear, come in," she said with a huge smile.

"Didn't mean to do that," he said grinning, and Molly raced over to give him the usual hug. As usual there was smells of food cooking on the hob. By the strength of it, lunch was not far away.

"How have you been dear?" she asked. "We've all been worried you know."

"Well please don't – things are fine."

"Good. Can you stay for lunch?"

"I hadn't planned to. But if you insist."

"Of course I insist Harry. I'll set out a plate," she said and pursed her lips.

"That sounds fair," he said. "I hear Ron is doing Better."

"Oh yes, much better," she said, nodding. "See for yourself. He's out back."

Molly went back to her broom as he walked the path to the outdoor table under the small grove behind the house. Sitting in a comfortable wicker chair was Ron looking out over the orchard. A mild morning breeze was tickling the leaves into movement at the top of the trees.

"You ever coming back to work?" Harry bellowed.

"Harry! It's damn good to see you mate."

Grinning ear to ear, he pulled up a chair next to Ron's.

"How do you feel Ron? Better?"

"Oh yes – loads better actually. I think I had everyone a bit worried for a while."

"You sure did. It was all such a shock."

Ron nodded and looked quietly over the orchard.

"So Harry – how's the chase going?" he said at length.

"Not bad, it seems we're dealing with an Order of some kind."

"An Order you say? That sounds bizarre. How would Penny be involved with something like that?"

"Can't imagine," Harry said, shaking his head. "Really can't."

"So you've faced them then?" Ron asked.

"Well, not the one that got you. Hopefully it won't be to long. But we got one for Jerry," Harry said and clenched his jaw.

Ron gave him a firm look and nodded.

"How did it happen?"

"He turned up at Penny's show. I ran him down. Hit him and secured him, but I overlooked one of his hands was loose and he managed to pry a wand free."

"Yeah," Ron said, eyes glued and mouth gaping.

"Well, to make a long story shot. He killed himself to avoid more talking and torture. Will never know for sure I guess."

Ron nodded solemnly.

"He said the wizard we're after is called Lasaurus."

"Lasaurus?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"Harry," Ron said at length and paused. "I think my memory of that night is damaged."

"Don't worry mate."

"No, no – I mean it's not good. But I do have a recurring dream and I think it may be real."

"What's that Ron?"

"That night – when we encountered him in the alley. He wasn't just one. No, he split into more than one Harry. We weren't just fighting just one wizard."

"But you said this is a dream Ron?"

"Yeah, it's just a dream – just a dream. But I think it may be memories trying to come back," he said and then gazed again out over orchard.

Molly had no trouble twisting his arm enough to stay for lunch. It was good to be back at the Burrow, but after he and Ginny had gone through a row, it also left him a little melancholy. The fix for that was coming up. A trip to Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron to check on Hannah would put his spirits back in place.

It was great to be walking down Diagon Alley, and he paused to say 'hello' to various shopkeepers, before coming to the magical passageway to the Leaky Cauldron. With a few taps on the bricks in the usual pattern they began their jerky dance with much clicking and turning. When the passageway was open he stepped through and reached for the Leaky Cauldron door handle.

Strangely, there was a sign hanging on a string around the door handle. He turned the handle to find it was locked. He pulled the sign off and read the small print in dim light.

The Inn is CLOSED

Will back after Holiday

Hannah Abbot

Replacing the sign carefully around the door handle just as he had found it, he wondered just what the bloody hell was going on.

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A/N: Grats for the new favs and follows. Thanks for reading and don't forget to review/comment etc. :)


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